ith a sickness. For my sake your
beloved mother abandoned her people, what remained to her of her fortune
after paying the price of my life, and her country, so strong is the
love of woman. All had been made ready, for at Cadiz lay an English
ship, the "Mary" of Bristol, in which passage was taken for us. But the
"Mary" was delayed in port by a contrary wind which blew so strongly
that notwithstanding his desire to save us, her master dared not take
the sea. Two days and a night we lay in the harbour, fearing all things
not without cause, and yet most happy in each other's love. Now those
who had charge of me in the dungeon had given out that I had escaped by
the help of my master the Devil, and I was searched for throughout the
country side. De Garcia also, finding that his cousin and affianced wife
was missing, guessed that we two were not far apart. It was his cunning,
sharpened by jealousy and hate, that dogged us down step by step till at
length he found us.

'On the morning of the third day, the gale having abated, the anchor of
the "Mary" was got home and she swung out into the tideway. As she came
round and while the seamen were making ready to hoist the sails, a
boat carrying some twenty soldiers, and followed by two others, shot
alongside and summoned the captain to heave to, that his ship might be
boarded and searched under warrant from the Holy Office. It chanced that
I was on deck at the time, and suddenly, as I prepared to hide myself
below, a man, in whom I knew de Garcia himself, stood up and called out
that I was the escaped heretic whom they sought. Fearing lest his ship
should be boarded and he himself thrown into prison with the rest of his
crew, the captain would then have surrendered me. But I, desperate
with fear, tore my clothes from my body and showed the cruel scars that
marked it.

'"You are Englishmen," I cried to the sailors, "and will you deliver me
to these foreign devils, who am of your blood? Look at their handiwork,"
and I pointed to the half-healed scars left by the red-hot pincers; "if
you give me up, you send me back to more of this torment and to death
by burning. Pity my wife if you will not pity me, or if you will pity
neither, then lend me a sword that by death I may save myself from
torture."

'Then one of the seamen, a Southwold man who had known my father, called
out: "By God! I for one will stand by you, Thomas Wingfield. If they
want you and your sweet lady they must kill