Nevertheless I had not too much time granted me, wherein to fall again under the power of my delusions, for about three weeks after taking away my companion, they came for me also. And I, remembering that he was never returned, considered that now at last death must be at hand, and called upon God to keep me steadfast, and so went with them, although my weakness was such that they must needs support me all the way. And being set once more before their lordships, they took occasion to remind me that much time had been granted to me, and likewise many incentives to repentance, and demanded whether I would now make a full confession, to all of which I returned the same answers as before. Then they had me away again to the torture-room, but God moved the heart of the chirurgion that stood by, so that he went up quickly to their lordships, and whispered them that I could bear no more, but should die under the first application of the torment, and at that they remanded me to my dungeon. But as I was departing, the Grand Inquisidor says suddenly-- “Take heed what you do, for except you confess, the next time you are brought here will be the signal for your death.” But as I have told you, I was prepared for death already, so that this threat did not move me, and I tarried during a long space very calmly and contentedly in my cell. I considered that God was about accustoming my mind to the approach of death, and for this I was extreme thankful. I seemed to myself to look back on all my past life before coming into this place as though it had been another man’s, so that I felt that ’twas not I that had started out from Ellswether, sworn to redeem the estates and espouse Dorothy, but another. ’Twas not that I had forgot those at home, but ’twas as though I looked upon them from some great distance, yea, as though I were already dead, and watching ’em from heaven. It did not even trouble me what should come to them when I was dead, for I seemed to myself to have no more to do with the cares and concerns of earth. I would not say that this posture of mind was to be commended or admired, as is that holy uplifting of the spirit whereof we read in the histories of the last hours of martyrs; for indeed I think it was but that dead calmness born of certainty arriving after long suspense, yet neither was it to be despised. Now at last, while in this mood, there breaks in upon me Father Theodorus, that seemed to be as cheerfully disposed as ever. “’Tis my last visit to ye, my lad,” says he. “Without ye are willing to satisfy their lordships, that is. And sure I’ll put it to ye quite fair, if ye are minded to convert, tell me, and I’ll convert ye quicker than any one else, but if ye an’t so, I’ll not trouble ye. ’Tis the confidence I have in ye makes me assured that ye wouldn’t give the pleasure of converting ye to one of the fat Franciscans in the town there, when poor old Father Theodorus has been visiting ye and watching over your soul for so long.”