“Brother, I don’t understand,” said Madame. “Who lent what? And where has she gone?”
“I mean Sister Olive—oh! I’m so sorry—poor Brother Ezra!—Sister Olive has gone off with Cotterell, and it was he who stole Queen Katharine, only it was proved at the trial that she lent her to him.”
Brother Green was too distressed to be a good witness.
“Who told you?” asked Madame.
“Whoever did told a lie,” said Uncle David.
“He’s outside. He was at the trial and has come to tell us about it.”
“Then bring him in,” said Madame.
The stranger entered, looking somewhat abashed. He was truly sorry to be the bearer of such bad tidings.
“Young man, before you begin this wicked tale, I charge you think of God and tell the truth.” Uncle David stood before him like an avenging spirit.
“Sir, excuse him,” said Madame in her sweet voice. “The old man is painfully distracted by grief, he does not know what he is saying. You have come to bring us definite news, have you not?”