“Ay,” replied he, “or so was to be, five days gone; and this day is Bishop Ferrar departed toward Saint David’s, where he also shall die.”
They sat silent from very horror.
At last John said, “Methinks there shall be some stir among the angels at such a time.”
“Among the devils, I should think,” answered Mr Underhill. “There be no particular tidings yet; but when Austin cometh to London we shall hear all. They say, moreover, Mr Bradford shall die ere long; and, for all his turning, Mr Cardmaker.”
“The fiends!” cried Dr Thorpe. “If they will rob a man of Heaven, they might leave him earth!”
“Friend,” said John, softly, “they can rob the most of us of earth, but they must leave us Heaven.”
When the ladies retired, Isoult asked Mrs Rose why she was so pale and heavy-eyed. The tears sprang to her eyes.
“O Isoult!” cried she, “since the burning of Mr Rogers I have scarcely slept at all. And when I do sleep—” she shuddered, and turned away her head.
“Hermana mia (my sister), I see him—and the fire.”
She did not mean Mr Rogers.