“Ha, ha, your worship—but I can’t help laughing; we found his reverence, chin-deep, in a malt-tub—ha, ha, ha! and the other rogue we hauled from the kitchen chimney, as black as his master, the Devil!” “And to his master he shall soon be sent with a crack in his windpipe,” said Jeffreys. “Wounds, your honor, you loves a joke!” said one, who might be called the Trois Eschelles of the company, edging up to Jeffreys with a horrid grin; “shall we string the rascals up below there—yonder is a good strong beam; or shall we leave their heads in the market-place, as a kind of warning to all traitors!” “Peace, knave!” replied Jeffreys, with a frown which made the villain turn pale; “attend to your duty, and see that the prisoners are well secured; these fellows are slippery rascals—and now, madam,” (turning to Alice Lisle,) “up with you, and prepare to follow either to the scaffold or the stake, as suits my pleasure.” Then, with a brutal blow with the back of his sword, he rudely pushed his victim on before him. Her weeping and terrified domestics would have approached their beloved mistress, but were thrust back by the drawn swords of the soldiers, and when the unfortunate lady crossed her threshold, it was over the dead body of her aged butler, brutally struck down before her. “Farewell, my friends,” said the Lady Alice, turning to her faithful attendants, “I look for no mercy at the hands of these cruel men, whose pastime is death; yet though they may torture the body, unto the mercy of my Redeemer do I humbly commit my soul. May God forgive these my enemies, for in their blind rage they know not what they do; pray for them, my friends.” “Come, none of your cant here, if you please, madam; if we want any praying done, we’ll call on yonder long-nosed, whining saint,” cried Jeffreys pointing to Hickes, who, with Nelthorpe at his side, and both closely bound together with ropes, and guarded on either side, was now brought forward. Lest by appearing to recognize the Lady Alice they might increase her danger, the prisoners took no notice whatever of her who for their sakes was now in such peril, and met her glance as they would that of a stranger. Nelthorpe, indeed, essayed once to speak, for the purpose of acquitting the Lady Alice of all knowledge of himself and companion, but his speech was cut short by vile taunts and curses. These wretched men had slept soundly through the night, and with the stupor of heavy fatigue still hanging about them, heard too late the tramp of their pursuers, and forgetting in their sudden alarm the secret panel, sprung through a window, and endeavored to conceal themselves in some of the outbuildings; but vainly—they were soon dragged forth, and knew that from the jaws of the blood-hound Jeffreys, _death_ was to be their only release.