ed the briefest answers; and when he had said as much as he
thought fit, he obstinately refused to make further reply.

Incensed at his perversity, and determined to extort a full confession,
in order that it might be laid before the King, the serjeant-at-arms
ordered the manacles to be applied. But though the torture was
exquisite, he bore it with firmness, and without uttering a groan;
maintaining the same determined silence as before. Had he dared, Master
Dendy would have had recourse to severer measures; but having no warrant
for any such proceeding, he was obliged to content himself with threats.
To these Hugh Calveley replied by a grim smile of contempt; but as the
serjeant-at-arms was departing to make his report to Sir Thomas Lake, he
said, "I have something to disclose; but it is for the King's ear
alone."

"Better reveal it to me," rejoined Dendy, halting. "I have it in my
power to render your situation far more tolerable, or to inflict
greater torment upon you. Make your choice."

"Deal with me as you please," returned Hugh Calveley sternly. "What I
have to say is to the King, and to the King only; and though you break
every bone in my body with your engines, and tear off my flesh with
red-hot pincers, you shall not force the secret from me."

Master Dendy looked at him, and felt disposed to place him in the
dreadful instrument of torture called Skeffington's irons, which was
hanging against the wall; but the consideration that had hitherto
restrained him--namely, that he was without authority for the step, and
might be called to account for it--weighed with him still; wherefore he
contented himself with ordering the prisoner to be chained to the
pillar; and having seen the injunction obeyed, he left him.

In this miserable plight Hugh Calveley remained for some hours, without
light and without food. How the time was passed none knew; but the two
yeomen of the guard who entered the vault found him on his knees
absorbed in prayer. They brought a lamp with them, and refreshments of a
better kind than those usually afforded to a prisoner, and set them
before him. But he refused to partake of them. The only favour he
besought was permission to read his Bible; and the lamp placed within
reach, he was soon deeply engrossed in the perusal of those pages from
which, when earnestly sought, consolation has ever been derived under
the most trying circumstances.

Sir Jocelyn had forborne to visit the prisoner from