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Updated: June 7, 2025
If you are not content, why then, the King was right, and I'm a fool, and so good-bye, I'll trouble you no more in fair weather or in foul. I have leave to marry, and there are other women in the world should I need one." "Tread on their tails and even worms will turn," soliloquized Jacob, while Emlyn burst into tears. Cicely ran to console her, and Bolle made as though he would leave the room.
"Whom do we bury in such haste?" asked the tall Thomas Bolle, who had delved the grave alone in the dark, for his orders were urgent, and the sexton was fled away from these tumults.
On her replying that such was her name, he said that he bore to her the command of his Grace the King to attend upon him at three o'clock of that afternoon at his Palace of Whitehall, together with Emlyn Stower and Thomas Bolle, there to make answer to his Majesty concerning a certain charge of witchcraft that had been laid against her and them, which summons she would neglect at her peril.
Therefore pardon, your Mightiness, pardon," and he kneeled down before him. "You have it, Bolle; in the King's name you have it," replied Legh, who was more flattered by the titles and attributes poured upon him by the cunning Thomas than a closer consideration might have warranted.
Then came forward Thomas Bolle, who all this while had been standing in the corner, and took him by the neck. "In the King's name!" he said, "nay, complain not, 'tis your own cry and I have warrant for it," and he knocked Legh's head against the door-post. "In the King's name, get out of this," and he gave him such a kick as never Royal Commissioner had felt before, shooting him down the passage.
"My Lord," answered Jacob, bowing, "this is Lady Harflete's servant and he is not to blame. That fat knave insulted her and, being quick-tempered, her man, Bolle, wrang his nose." "I see that he wrang it. Look, he is wringing it still. Friend Bolle, leave go, or presently you will have in your hand that which is of no value to you.
Back trooped the crowd a little fearfully, taking the properties which he held, and handling them, till first one and then all of them began to laugh. "Laugh not," shouted Bolle.
At the close he eyed me awhile angrily, with his brows drawn down. 'You are an impudent knave, sir, to stand and tell me this to my face. Look ye here, Bolle' he swung round upon the colonel, who had put forth a hand as though to arrest this unseemly abuse. 'How do I know that this dog has not tampered with the wine?
"Perhaps he made a mistake in the dark." "If so it is like Thomas Bolle, who ever wished the right thing and did the wrong. Talk no more of him, since I would not meet my end in a bad spirit. Thomas Bolle, who lets us die for his elfish pranks! A pest on the half-witted cur, say I. And after I had kissed him too!"
"A friend of mine who has to do with the Abbey yonder; ask not his name." "I know it, Emlyn; Thomas Bolle," she whispered back. "A friend of mine," repeated the tall, dark woman, "told me that Sir John Foterell, your sire, was murdered last night in the forest by a gang of armed men, of whom he slew two." "From the Abbey?" queried Cicely in the same whisper. "Who knows? I think it.
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