“You shan’t, Wrinstone.  If he has done amiss, let him go, and I’ll give thee some plums out of my midlent pasty.”

The meekness and peaceable demeanour of this unoffending servant of the Church had in a moment won the heart of the child, and she pulled him by the hand, as if to convey him from the grasp of his persecutor.

“May Heaven bless thee, my child, and make thee a blessing!” He lifted up his eyes while he thus spake.  “Thy nature hath not yet learnt the cruel disposition of these tormentors.”

It is said that his prayer was heard; and a passage in the subsequent history of this little girl may, in all likelihood, find a place in another series of our Traditions.

A tear for the first time trembled in the poor man’s eye as he looked on this tender and compassionate babe.  He thought upon his own sufferings, and the hard fate of his own little ones.  But he soon repressed the rising murmur, calmly awaiting the result.

The child still clung to him; nor would she depart, though threatened with Sir Roger’s displeasure by his deputy.  Indeed, she cared little for the issue, being fully indulged in all her caprices by the knight, her grandfather, who was mightily entertained with her humours.  But threats and cajolements failing in their effect, they were glad to let this wilful creature accompany them to the presence of Sir Roger as the dispenser of justice, or rather of his own vindictive will; and to his private chamber they were shortly summoned.

Now this distinguished knight was heavy and well-fed, and of a rich and rubicund countenance.  From over-indulgence he had become unwieldy, being propped up in a well-stuffed chair, one leg resting on a low stool, his whole frame bloated by indolence and sensuality.  He was short-necked and full-chested.  His eyes, gray and fiery, were almost starting from his head, by reason of some obstruction to the free current of the blood in that direction.  This was accompanied by a wheezing and phlethoric cough, which oft troubled him.  At his side sat a priest, who had a fair smooth face, and a shining head sprinkled over with a few pale-coloured locks close cut and combed back with becoming care from his temples.  His eyes were small and restless, scarcely for an instant keeping to one position.  He seemed to pay a silent deference to his patron, allowing Sir Roger to begin the examination as follows:—­

“So thy relatives have ferreted thee forth at last.  Nothing like making their kindred in some sort answer for the bodies of these heretics.”

“I came of my own free consent, and alone, your worship,” replied Marsh; “and hope to be honestly dealt with.  If I have offended the laws, I am here to answer; if not, I claim your protection.”

“Peace!  Will none o’ ye stop that fellow’s prating?  Justice thou shalt have, and that speedily, as thou sayest, but not in the way thou couldst desire.  Look thee!” He fumbled in his pouch as he spake.  Drawing out a letter, he continued—­“My Lord Derby hath commanded that thou be sent to Lathom along with some others who do mightily trouble us, and sow evil seed and dissension among the people.”