cried. "Let me go and give my life for
Christ! Alack the day! The Lord counts me not worthy."

The other six prisoners were led, tied together, two and two, through
High Street and up to the Head Gate. First came William Bongeor and
Thomas Benold; then Mrs Silverside and Mrs Ewring; last, Robert Purcas
and Elizabeth Foulkes. They were led out of the Head Gate, to "a plot
of ground hard by the town wall, on the outward side," beside the Lexden
Road. There stood three great wooden stakes, with a chain affixed to
each. The clock of Saint Mary-at-Walls struck six as they reached the
spot.

Around the stakes a multitude were gathered to see the sight. Mr
Ewring, with set face, trying to force a smile for his wife's
encouragement; Mrs Foulkes, gazing with clasped hands and tearful eyes
on her daughter; Thomas Holt and all his family; Mr Ashby and all his;
Ursula Felstede, looking very unhappy; Dorothy Denny, looking very sad;
old Walter Purcas, leaning on his staff, from time to time shaking his
white head as if in bitter lamentation; a little behind the others, Mrs
Clere and Amy; and in front, busiest of the busy, Sir Thomas Tye and
Nicholas Clere. There they all were, ready and waiting, to see the Moot
Hall prisoners die.

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Note 1. Girl. This is a Suffolk provincialism.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

HOW THEY WENT HOME.

Arrived at the spot where they were to suffer, the prisoners knelt down
to pray: "but not in such sort as they would, for the cruel tyrants
would not suffer them." Foremost of their tormentors at this last
moment was Nicholas Clere, who showed an especial spite towards
Elizabeth Foulkes, and interrupted her dying prayers to the utmost of
his power. When Elizabeth rose from her knees and took off her outer
garments--underneath which she wore the prepared robe--she asked the
Bailiff's leave to give her petticoat to her mother; it was all the
legacy in her power to leave. Even this poor little comfort was denied
her. The clothes of the sufferers were the perquisite of the Sheriffs'
men, and they would not give them up. Elizabeth smiled--she did nothing
but smile that morning--and cast the petticoat on the ground.

"Farewell, all the world!" she said. "Farewell, Faith! farewell, Hope!"
Then she took the stake in her arms and kissed it. "Welcome, Love!"

Ay, faith and hope were done with now. A few moments, and fai