“Take them away—take them away!” cried Sir John.
Wastborowe lifted Will down.
“But please—” said Cissy piteously—“isn’t nothing to be done to us? Mayn’t we go ’long of Father?”
“Ay, for the present,” answered Wastborowe, as he took a hand of each to lead them back.
“But isn’t Father to be burned?”
“Come along! I can’t stay,” said the gaoler hastily. Even his hard heart shrank from answering yes to that little pleading face.
“But please, oh please, they mustn’t burn Father and not us! We must go with Father.”
“Wastborowe!” Sir John’s voice called back.
“Take ’em down, Tom,” said Wastborowe to his man,—not at all sorry to go away from Cissy. He ran back to court.
“We are of opinion, Wastborowe,” said Dr Chedsey rather pompously, “that these children are too young and ignorant to be put to the bar. We make order, therefore, that they be discharged, and set in care of some good Catholic woman, if any be among their kindred; and if not, let them be committed to the care of some such not akin to them.”