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"Have him away!" cried Sir John Kingston. "What need to question further so obstinate a man?" So they had him away not being able to answer him and Agnes Silverside was called in his stead. She was very calm, but as determined as Purcas. "Come hither, Mistress!" said Boswell, roughly.
He could not see for a few minutes, coming fresh from the light of day: and before he was able to make anything out clearly, an old lady's voice accosted him. "Robert Purcas, if I err not?" she said. "I am sorry to behold thee here, friend." "Truly, Mistress, more than I am, that am come hither in Christ's cause." "Ay? Then thou art well come." "Methinks it is Mistress Silverside?"
Mr Ewring, with set face, trying to force a smile for his wife's encouragement; Mrs Foulkes, gazing with clasped hands and tearful eyes on her daughter; Thomas Holt and all his family; Mr Ashby and all his; Ursula Felstede, looking very unhappy; Dorothy Denny, looking very sad; old Walter Purcas, leaning on his staff, from time to time shaking his white head as if in bitter lamentation; a little behind the others, Mrs Clere and Amy; and in front, busiest of the busy, Sir Thomas Tye and Nicholas Clere.
"I did receive the Supper of the Lord in King Edward's time, but not since: nor will I, except it be ministered to me as it was then." "Do you not worship the sacred host?" That is, the consecrated bread in the Lord's Supper. "Those who worship it are idolaters!" said Robert Purcas, without the least hesitation: "that which there is used is bread and wine only."
Mr Ashby was charged to keep and "reconcile" her, which he promised to do, or to feed her on barley bread if she proved obstinate. As Elizabeth turned to follow him she passed close by Robert Purcas, whom the gaoler was just about to take back to prison. "`Thou hast set them in slippery places," whispered Purcas as she passed him. "Keep thou true to Christ. O Elizabeth, mine own love, keep true!"
When his footsteps had died away, Robert crept out from the shelter of the hedge, and made his way in the dark to Johnson's cottage. A rap on the door brought Cissy. "Who is it, please?" she said, "because I can't see." "It is Robin Purcas, Cis. I want a word with thy father." "Come in, Robin!" called Johnson's voice from within.
After the trial of the Colchester prisoners, the Commissioners passed on to other places, and the town was quiet for a time. Mrs Silverside, Johnson and the children, and Purcas, remained in prison in the Moot Hall, and Elizabeth Foulkes was as truly a prisoner in the house of Henry Ashby. At first she was very kindly treated, in the hope of inducing her to recant.
"Then, in very deed, we heard nought," said Rose. "I do trust it shall prove but an ill rumour." "May it be so! yet I cannot but fear it be true. Robin Purcas came to me last night, and I could not but think he should have told me somewhat an' he might: but he found Father Tye in mine house, and might not speak.
"Now then, who goes home?" cried the cheerful voice of Mrs Wade, when the sermon was over. "You, Mistress Benold? you, Alice Mount? you, Meg Thurston? You'd best hap your mantle well about your head. Mistress Silverside, this sharp even: yon hood of yours is not so thick, and you are not so young as you were once. Now, Adrian Purcas, thee be off with Johnson and Mount; thou'rt not for my money.
That would be putting herself in the wrong. But her poor friends, would they escape? How if Robert Purcas had been stopped, as she had? I was strange, but her imagination did not dwell nearly so much upon her own friend, Rose, as on little Cissy. If Johnson were taken, if he were martyred, what would become of little Cissy? The child had crept into Elizabeth's heart, before she was aware.
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