s not necessary, and, indeed, would be long, for
it took many hours. First of all Emlyn's early life was set out, much
being made of the fact that her mother was a gypsy who had committed
suicide and that her father had fallen under the ban of the Inquisition,
an heretical work of his having been publicly burned. Then the Abbot
himself gave evidence, since, where the charge was sorcery, no one
seemed to think it strange that the same man should both act as judge
and be the principal witness for the prosecution. He told of Cicely's
wild words after the burning of Cranwell Towers, from which burning she
and her familiar, Emlyn, had evidently escaped by magic, without the
aid of which it was plain they could not have lived. He told of Emlyn's
threats to him after she had looked into the bowl of water; of all the
dreadful things that had been seen and done at Blossholme, which no
doubt these witches had brought about--here he was right--though how
he knew not. He told of the death of the midwife and of the appearance
which she presented afterwards--a tale that caused his audience to
shudder; and, lastly, he told of the vision of the ghost of Sir John
Foterell holding converse with the two accused in the chapel of the
Nunnery, and its vanishing away.

When at length he had finished Emlyn asked leave to cross-examine him,
but this was refused on the ground that persons accused of such crimes
had no right to cross-examine.

Then the Court adjourned for a while to eat, some food being brought for
the prisoners, who were forced to take it where they stood. Worse
still, Cicely was driven to nurse her child in the presence of all that
audience, who stared and gibed at her rudely, and were angry because
Emlyn and some of the nuns stood round her to form a living screen.

When the judges returned the evidence went on. Though most of it was
entirely irrelevant, its volume was so great that at length the Old
Bishop grew weary, and said he would hear no more. Then the judges
went on to put, first to Cicely and afterwards to Emlyn, a series of
questions of a nature so abominable that after denying the first of them
indignantly, they stood silent, refusing to answer--proof positive of
their guilt, as the black-browed Prior remarked in triumph. Lastly,
these hideous queries being exhausted, Cicely was asked if she had
anything to say.

"Somewhat," she answered; "but I am weary, and must be brief. I am no
witch; I do not know what it m