“No, because I had no certain evidence against her. It would have been wrong to have acted upon a mere suspicion.”
“Just and upright in all things!”
“I only believed God’s promises. I left my cause to Heaven.”
“And Heaven has vindicated you, my Kate! You have seen my sufferings since discovering how unjustly you had been condemned; but, oh, Kate, I suffered also when I madly believed you guilty.”
“I know you did. I do know you did. It was that that gave point to my own sorrow.”
“When I cast you into the fire, while you were tortured, I was scathed! I loved you too perfectly not to suffer with you. You were too really a portion of myself, for me not to suffer through you. I am thinking of that Archbishop, Kate—whose name I have forgotten—”
“Cranmer?”
“Yes, Cranmer! See how our very unspoken thoughts rush together, dear wife. Yes, Kate, I was thinking of Cranmer, who thrust his offending hand into the flames, and held it there, until it burned to cinders, and dropped off. Oh, my Kate! was it his hand alone that suffered, or did not his whole body agonize with it? And so, my Catherine, when believing you unworthy, I thrust you into the fire, did I not suffer through you in all my nature? I did! I did, Catherine! Lift up the hair from my temples, and tell me what you see?”
Kate lifted the clustering dark curls, and answered—
“A few white hairs.”