't you, without she's
summoned?"

"Where are they?" peremptorily demanded Elizabeth.

"Sitting down to their supper at Mistress Cosin's," was the laughing
answer. "Don't thou spoil it by rushing in all of a--"

"I shall go to them this minute," said Elizabeth tying on her hood,
which she had taken down from its nail. "No man nor woman shall say
such words of me. Good-night, Aunt; I thank you for all your goodness,
and may the good Lord bless you and yours for ever Farewell!" And amid
a shower of exclamations and entreaties from her startled relatives, who
never expected conduct approaching to this, Elizabeth left the house.

She had not far to go on that last walk in this world. The White Hart,
where the Commissioners were staying, was full of light and animation
that night when she stepped into it from the dark street, and asked
leave to speak a few words to the Queen's Commissioners.

"What would you with them?" asked a red-cheeked maid who came to her.

"That shall they know speedily," was the answer.

The Commissioners were rather amused to be told that a girl wanted to
see them: but when they heard who it was, they looked at each other with
raised eyebrows, and ordered her to be called in. They had finished
supper, and were sitting over their wine, as gentlemen were then wont to
do rather longer than was good for them.

Elizabeth came forward to the table and confronted them. The
Commissioners themselves were two in number, Sir John Kingston and Dr
Chedsey; but the scribe, sheriff, and bailiffs were also present.

"Worshipful Sirs," she said in a clear voice, "I have been told it is
reported in this town that I have made this day by you submission and
obedience to the Pope. And since this is not true, nor by God's grace
shall never be, I call on you to do your duty, and commit me to the
Queen's Highness' prison, that I may yet again bear my testimony for my
Lord Christ."

There was dead silence for a moment. Dr Chedsey looked at the girl
with admiration which seemed almost reverence. Sir John Kingston knit
his brows, and appeared inclined to examine her there and then. Boswell
half rose as if he would once more have pleaded with or for her. But
Maynard, the Sheriff, whom nothing touched, and who was scarcely sober,
sprang to his feet and dashed his hand upon the table, with a cry that
"the jibbing jade should repent kicking over the traces this time!" He
seized Elizabeth, marched her to the