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He must have had considerable ability, for though only twenty years of age, and a village tradesman, he was set down in the charge-sheet as "lettered," namely, a well-educated man, which in those days was most extraordinary for a man of that description. "When confessed you last?" asked the Commissioners of Purcas.
"Bessy, come!" whispered Purcas earnestly. But Elizabeth shook her head. "The Lord bless you! I dare not." And she shut the door, knowing that by so doing, she virtually shut it upon life and happiness that is, happiness in this life. Elizabeth went quietly back to the kitchen, and took up an iron.
And he read over the list. "Elizabeth Wood, Christian Hare, Rose Fletcher, Joan Kent, Agnes Stanley, Margaret Simson, Robert Purcas, Agnes Silverside, John Johnson, Elizabeth Foulkes." "Got 'em all save that last," said Wastborowe, "Who is she? I know not the name. By the same token, what didst with the babe? There were three of Johnson's children, and one in arms."
And Rose knew that while he might intend to include being kept safe, yet he meant, far more than that, being kept true. When John Love called at Johnson's cottage to fetch Robert Purcas, the two walked about a hundred yards on the way to Bentley without either speaking a word. Then Robert suddenly stopped. "Look you, Love! what would you with me? I cannot go far from Thorpe to-night.
For half-an-hour, safely hidden behind a hedge, Robert Purcas watched the door of Johnson's cottage, until at last he saw the priest come out, and go up the lane for a short distance. Then he stopped, looked round, and gave a low, peculiar whistle. A man jumped down from the bank on the other side of the lane, with whom the priest held a long, low-toned conversation.
They easily consented to be reconciled to the Church to say whatever the priests bade them, and to believe or pretend to believe all that they were desired. Robert Purcas was the next put on trial. What this really meant was that his arguments were too powerful to answer.
"Ursula Felstede came in and dressed dinner for me, and Margaret Thurston looked in after, and she washed some matters and did a bit of mending; and at after I had company Father Tye, and Robin Purcas, and Jack Love. So thou seest I was not right lonesome." "He took good care of you. Father," said Cissy, looking happy. It was evident that Cissy lived for and in her father.
I cannot, for I see the bread." "He's a heretic!" cried Simnel. "Robert or William, it is all one. Take the heretic!" And so Robert Purcas was seized, and carried to the Moot Hall in Colchester a fate from which one word of falsehood would have freed him, but it would have cost him his Father's smile. The Moot Hall of Colchester was probably the oldest municipal building in England.
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.
Having opened the Court, they first summoned before them William Bongeor, the glazier, of Saint Michael's parish, aged sixty, then Thomas Benold, the tallow-chandler, and thirdly, Robert Purcas. They asked Purcas "what he had to say touching the Sacrament." "When we receive the Sacrament," he answered, "we receive bread in an holy use, that preacheth remembrance that Christ died for us."
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