Isoult.

"Ay, he was bold enough," said Austin. "Well, after examination, afore
I set forth, come to me my old Lord of Sussex, and that gentle knight
Sir William Woodhouse, who told me they meant to see Mr Rose, and to do
whatsoever they might in his behalf. And a word in your ear: the Queen
is very, very grievous sick. My Lord of Sussex, and other likewise,
have told me that the Bishops _dare_ not sentence more heretics. They
think Mr Rose shall have a lighter sentence than death--imprisonment it
may be. But until they see how the Queen shall fare, they be sore
afraid."

"They were not afeard to burn Mr Bradford," suggested Isoult.

"Truth," he answered. "But he, you see, was already sentenced. Mrs
Avery, there is one thing I must needs tell you, and I pray you, let me
get the same out ere Mrs Thekla come in. I am sore diseased touching Mr
Tremayne."

"For Robin!" she cried. "Austin, have they sentenced him?"

"I know not what they have done unto him," saith he, "and that is the
very truth. He is no longer in the Marshalsea. They have carried him
thence some whither, and I, which am alway rambling up and down the
realm, have not yet discovered whither. Trust me, you shall know as
soon as I."

Early in the morning, six days afterwards, before all were down, and
Isoult herself had but just descended the stairs, there came a hasty
rap, and in ran Austin.

"Where is Mrs Rose?" said he. "I have good news for her."

"O Austin! is Mr Rose sentenced?" said Isoult, when she had called Mrs
Rose.

"Ay," he answered, "but to no worse than imprisonment in his lodging.
It is as I told you--the Bishops dare not act. And Sir William
Woodhouse, being present, maketh offer (under the Bishop's leave) to
keep Mr Rose in his house, seeing he had no lodging in Norwich. Whereto
the Bishop assents, but that he should come up when called for. Sir
William therefore taketh him away, and at the very next day sendeth him
thence. I cannot tell you where: Sir William will tell none. Only this
I know; he is to be passed secretly from hand to hand, until means be
had to convey him over seas. And now my Lord of Norwich is come to
London, and shall not be back for nigh a month; in which time Mr Rose
may win far enough ere he be bidden.--Why, Mrs Rose! is it matter for
weeping?"

"I think it is for weeping, Austin, but not for sorrow," said Isoult.

"One word, Augustine," said Mrs Rose, drying her eyes. "Whither shall
t