n and open to 'em," was Mrs Clere's next order.

"Eh, I durstn't if it was ever so!" screamed Amy in reply. "May I
unlock the door and send Bessy?"

"Thee do as thou art bid!" came in the gruff tones of her father.

"Come, I'll go with thee," said her mother. "Tell Master Bailiff we're
at hand, or they'll mayhap break the door in."

A third violent rap enforced Mrs Clere's command.

"Have a bit of patience, Master Bailiff!" cried Amy from her window.
"We're a-coming as quick as may be. Let a body get some clothes on,
do!"

Somebody under the window was heard to laugh.

Then Mrs Clere went downstairs, her heavy tread followed by the light
run of her daughter's steps; and then Elizabeth heard the bolts drawn
back, and the Bailiff and his men march into the kitchen of the Magpie.

"Good-morrow, Mistress Clere. I am verily sorry to come to the house of
a good Catholic on so ill an errand. But I am in search of a maid of
yours, by name Elizabeth Foulkes, whose name hath been presented a afore
the Queen's Grace's Commission for heresy. Is this the maid?"

Mr Maynard, as he spoke, laid his hand not very gently on Amy's
shoulder.

"Eh, bless me, no!" cried Amy, in terror. "I'm as good a Catholic as
you or any. I'll say aught you want me, and I don't care what it is--
that the moon's made o' green cheese, if you will, and I'd a shive last
night for supper. Don't take _me_, for mercy's sake!"

"I'm not like," said Mr Maynard, laughing, and giving Amy a rough pat
on the back. "You aren't the sort I want."

"You're after Bess Foulkes, aren't you?" said Mrs Clere. "Amy, there's
the key. Go fetch her down. I locked her up, you see, that she should
be safe when wanted, I'm a true woman to Queen and Church, I am, Master
Bailiff. You'll find no heresy here, outside yon jade of a Bessy."

Mrs Clere knew well that suspicion had attached to her husband's name
in time past, which made her more desirous to free herself from all
complicity with what the authorities were pleased to call heresy.

Amy ran upstairs and unlocked the door of the porch-chamber.

"Bessy, the Bailiff's come for thee!"

A faint flush rose to Elizabeth's face as she stood up.

"Now do be discreet, Bessy, and say as he says. Bless you, it's only
words! I told him I'd say the moon was made o' green cheese if he
wanted. Why shouldn't you?"

"Mistress Amy, it would be dishonour to my Lord, and I am ready for
anything but that."

"Good