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Updated: June 19, 2025


Little Nell no longer Baby could walk now, and chatter too, though few except Cissy understood what she said. She talked away in a very lively manner, until Dorothy lifted her into the cart, when the sight of Mr Ewring seemed to exert a paralysing effect upon her, nor was she reassured at once by his smile. "Dear heart, but it 'll be a close fit!" said Dorothy. "How be we to pack ourselves?"

"Me, Master?" Mr Ewring smiled. "Well, whether shall it be to-morrow, or leave over Sunday?" "If it liked you, Master, I would say to-morrow. Poor little dears! they'll be so pleased to come back to their friends. I can be ready for them I'll work early and late but I will. Did you think of taking the little lad yourself, or are they all to bide with me?"

"If so be, she at least will have little sorrow." "Give you good den, Master Hiltoft! May a man have speech of your prisoner, Mistress Bongeor?" "You're a bold man, Master Ewring." "Wherefore?" "Wherefore! Sotting your head in the lion's mouth! I should have thought you'd keep as far from Moot Hall as you could compass.

There shall be some right happy deliverances all over the realm, and many an happy meeting," said Mr Ewring, with a faint sigh at the thought that no such blessedness was in store for him, until he should reach the gate of the Celestial City. "Good den, Jack."

"At six o'clock in the morning, on the waste piece by Lexden Road, shall suffer the penalty of the law these men and women underwritten: William Bongeor, Thomas Benold, Robert alias William Purcas, Agnes Silverside alias Downes alias Smith alias May, Helen Ewring, Elizabeth Foulkes, Agnes Bowyer." With one accord, led by Mr Benold, the condemned prisoners stood up and thanked God.

She was Mrs Silverside, the widow of a priest. By her was Mrs Ewring the miller's wife, who was a little deaf, and wanted to get near the preacher. When the room was full, Mr Pulleyne, who was to preach that evening, rose and came forward to the table, and gave out the Forty-Second Psalm. They had no hymn-books, as we have.

Let the Lord's will be done, and His glory ensured, by His doing with me whatsoever He will. I will strive to be patient, and not grieve more than I should." "Therein wilt thou do well, my sister. And now I go when as it shall please Wastborowe," added Mr Ewring with a slight smile of amusement, and then growing grave, "to visit one in far sorer trouble than thyself." "Eh, Master, who is that?"

Above four months passed on, and no change came to the prisoners, but there had not been any fresh arrests. The other Gospellers began to breathe more freely, and to hope that the worst had come already. Mrs Wade was left at liberty; Mr Ewring had not been taken; surely all would go well now! How often we think the worst must be over, just a minute before it comes upon us!

"Ay, Jane, you'd have cared her well for the body, I cast no doubt." "Dear heart, but it's sore pity, Master Ewring, such a good man as you cannot be a good Catholic like every body else! You'd save yourself ever so much trouble and sorrow. I cannot think why you don't." "We should save ourselves a little sorrow, Jane; but we should have a deal more than we lost." "But how so, Master?

He isn't going himself; or if he is, it's back foremost. Master Ewring, help me! I mean it. I never wist a soul going that way save Bessy Foulkes: and she's got there, and I want to go her way. What am I to do?" Mr Ewring did not speak for a moment.

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