One of the sumners unrolled a parchment deed.
“We have here a writ to take the bodies of certain persons believed to be in your house, and we bid you, in the name of holy Church, that you aid us in the execution of our office.”
Isel, terribly frightened, was muttering Ave Marias by the dozen. To Gerhardt’s forehead the blood had surged in one sudden flush, and then subsiding, left him calm and pale.
“When holy Church bids, I am her lowly servant,” was Manning’s answer. “Do your duty.”
“You say well,” replied the sumner. “I demand the body of one Gerard, a stranger of Almayne, of Agnes his wife, of Rudolph their son, and of Ermine, the man’s sister.”
“Of what stand they accused?”
“Of the worst that could be—heresy.”
“Then will I give them no shelter. I pray you to note, Master Sumner, that I returned but last night from over seas, whither I have followed the cross, and have not hitherto had any opportunity to judge of these whom I found here.”
“You will have opportunity to clear yourself before the Council,” said the sumner. “Find me a rope, good woman. Is this your son?” he added, appealing to Gerhardt.
“This is my son,” answered Gerhardt, with a tremulous smile. “He is scarcely yet old enough to commit crime.”