"So please you, my lords," answered Barbara, ignoring Jeffreys pointedly, and addressing herself to the three judges who sat with him, "that I am a traitor I deny utterly. As for the stories these men tell of me, why, they are true enough I must admit. But what then? I did but give food and assistance to those in dire distress and misery, I did no more than we are e'en commanded in the Gospels."
"The Gospels! The Gospels!" interrupted Jeffreys scornfully.
"Aye, my lord," answered Barbara, turning on him sharply. "The Gospels. In which books methinks your lordship hath made but scant study."
Judge Jeffreys started forward, and stared at her in astonishment, then his face grew purple and distorted with fury, and his eyes gleamed horribly as he broke into a fierce tirade.
"What! What! I am to be browbeaten, contradicted in my own court, am I? What! You shall learn that the majesty of the law, the representative of our gracious sovereign is not to be thus lightly answered. Gospels, forsooth! 'Tis ever the same excuse, the same prating of Gospels and conscience and I know not what. Is this yet another of these pestilent dissenters? Do these wretched creatures deem they may rebel with impunity against his gracious Majesty, can plot and scheme against such a loving, such a merciful, king, and then shelter themselves behind such a babble of Gospels and conscience. Faugh! 'Tis monstrous. 'Tis beyond endurance! The prisoner pleads guilty to the charges brought against her but appeals to the Gospels for evidence in her favour, eh? 'Tis but little evidence she will find there in justification of rebellion."
Barbara's anger had risen during the foregoing scene, and was now beyond her control. Twice she had endeavoured to interrupt the judge's comments, and now when at length he paused, she burst forth in almost as great a frenzy as the judge himself.
"And I must needs say this much more—not indeed in mine own cause, for that I care nothing, but rather in the cause of the many poor wretches whom ye have to-day tortured and slain, of the ignorant and helpless peasants whom ye have condemned without fair hearing, of the delicate women whom ye have threatened, of the innocent children whom ye have terrified even to death. Nay, I will not be silent, I must speak. Ye who are judges, what judgments are these wherein is neither truth nor mercy? Ye prate of the law, what law is this that knows no justice? Ye speak of his Majesty. Oh! an ye be in truth the representatives of his Majesty, the workers of his will, then do I say he is no true king, and 'twould be a good day indeed for England were such a king overthrown."
She ceased speaking. She had said her say, she had poured forth all the pent-up fury of her thoughts, she had defied the judge to his face, and in the dead silence that followed her words, the first grip of terror at what she had said clutched at her heart.
The court gasped in horrified amazement, but the face of Judge Jeffreys was terrible to behold. Always strangely, morbidly sensitive to opposition, or to rebuke from whatever source, the judge lost all control over himself. His eyes seemed starting from his head and glared horribly; his face grew purple and swollen, his lips were drawn back in a fierce snarl. He ground his teeth, and rolled from side to side in his chair, partly in rage and partly in the agony which such rage caused him. His unrestrained fury was horrible to witness. It was as though some fit were upon him, and Barbara shrank involuntarily at the sight of such appalling ferocity. At length he regained some measure of his self-control.
"What! Heaven help us," he exclaimed. "Why, this is the very incarnation of rebellion, a very headspring and source of treason. Oh! that such a woman, so young, should be so far gone in iniquity. Beware, madame, beware! I see death standing beside thee——"