ith you."

"Tell him I bring news that it concerns him to hear."

Mary stopped and looked at him.

"Go thy ways, Mall. I said not, news it concerned thee to hear."

"Ay, but it doth! Jack, it is touching Mistress?"

"It is not ill news for her," replied Banks quietly.

"Then I know what you mean," said Mary, with a sob. "Oh, Jack, Jack!
that we should have lived to see this day!"

She threw her apron over her face, and disappeared into the house.
Banks waited a few minutes, till Mary returned with a disgusted face.

"You may go in, Jack; but 'tis a stone you'll find there."

Banks made his way to the dining-room, where Mr Benden was seated with
a dish of cherries before him.

"'Day!" was all the greeting he vouchsafed.

"Good-day, Master. I am but now returned from Canterbury, where I have
been in the Bishop's Court."

"Humph!" was the only expression of Mr Benden's interest. He had grown
harder, colder, and stonier, since those days when he missed Alice's
presence. He did not miss her now.

"The prisoners from this place were sentenced to-day."

"Humph!"

"They shall die there, the nineteenth of June next." Banks did not feel
it at all necessary to soften his words, as he seemed to be addressing a
stone wall.

"Humph!" The third growl sounded gruffer than the rest.

"And Mistress Benden said to Nichol Pardue--`Then shall we keep our
Trinity octave in Heaven!'"

Mr Benden rose from his chair. Was he moved at last? What was he
about to say? Thrusting forth a finger towards the door, he compressed
his thanks and lamentations into a word--

"Go!"

John Banks turned away. Why should he stay longer?

"Poor soul!" was what he said, when he found himself again in the
kitchen with Mary.

"What, _him_?" answered Mary rather scornfully.

"No--her, that she had to dwell with him. She'll have fairer company
after Saturday."

"Is it Saturday, Jack?"

"Ay, Mall. Would you be there? I shall."

"No," said Mary, in a low tone. "I couldn't keep back my tears, and
maybe they'd hurt her. She'll lack all her brave heart, and I'll not
trouble her in that hour."

"You'd best not let Master Hall know--neither Mr Roger, nor Mr Thomas.
It'd nigh kill poor little Mistress Christie to know of it aforehand.
She loved her Aunt Alice so dearly."

"I can hold my tongue, Jack. Easier, maybe, than I can keep my hands
off that wretch in yonder!"

When Mary went in to lay the cloth for the last meal