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Updated: June 4, 2025
The Recorder Jefferies now cried out, "By my troth, I could never before understand why the Spaniards suffered the Inquisition among them; and, to my mind, it will never be well with us in England till we have among us something like the Inquisition." "Boy," whispered Christison to his son, "you heard those words. The knave has a good idea of his master's notions and designs.
Almost exhausted, pale as death, the blood flowing from his wound opened by the exertions he had made, Wenlock Christison dropped down on the deck of the stranger, not knowing whether he was to find himself on board an English or Dutch ship. The condition of the ship showed that she had been hotly engaged, for numbers of dead men lay about her blood-stained decks.
Why I have been thus assaulted I cannot tell, but I fear that it was in consequence of the animosity of some political opponents." "Thank you, my lord duke," answered Christison. "We are lodging in the City, and I would not wish to take your grace so far out of your way, nor can we intrude upon you at this hour of the evening; but to-morrow morning we will, with your leave, wait on your grace.
"Howbeit, if thou and thy companions use force, to force we yield, and must needs accompany thee whithersoever thou conductest us." "Farewell, old friend," said Mead, shaking Christison by the hand, as the constables were about to lead him off.
Near him was another man whose features, lighted up by the flames from the burning ship, he recognised as those of Sir Richard Haddock. He swam towards him. "Leave me, Christison," he said; "I am desperately wounded, and cannot survive this night. You too I saw were wounded, and will have enough to do to save yourself." "No, no, sir," answered Wenlock; "I see close to us a spar.
"At Hampton, Priest Seaborn Cotton, understanding that one Eliakim Wardel had entertained Wenlock Christison, went with some of his herd to Eliakim's house, having like a sturdy herdsman put himself at the head of his followers, with a truncheon in his hand."
"I am not surprised to hear thee, old comrade, allude to them thus; but I, now taught better, have laid aside the use of carnal weapons." "Well, well, I know you will always do as your conscience dictates," said Christison; "and gladly do I shake hands with the son of my old commander."
"Let me tell you, if you pay not proper respect to the court, I will have you carried to Bridewell and well whipped, you varlet, though you are the son of a Commonwealth admiral! Do you hear me, sirrah?" "By my troth," whispered Christison to his son. "I should like to rush in with my sword and stop that foul-speaking varlet's mouth, Lord Mayor of London though he be.
Directly before them they saw the outlines of two horses and several persons apparently struggling on the ground. The sounds of "Help! help!" again reached their ears. "Here is help to whoever is in the right," cried Christison, drawing his sword. "I am in the right; the others wish to kill me," said the same voice. "No, no; he is a prisoner escaping from justice," growled a man in a rough voice.
Even when Hendry Munn, instead of marching to the pulpit with the big Bible in his hands, came as far as the plate and signed to Peter Tosh, elder, that he was wanted in the vestry, you could not have guessed how every woman there, except Bell Christison, wished she was Peter Tosh.
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