“Under the seal of confession?”
“Seal of stuff!” cried Master Peasegood, testily. “I don’t confess. He told me, and asked my advice, and I tell my most intimate friend. Look here, brother. It seems they won’t let thee alone.”
“Indeed! And why?”
“There’s a rumour out that thou art down here to purchase powder for some new plot, and Master Cobbe is in a fine way about it.”
“And you? What did you say to him?”
“Told him he was a fool.”
“Hah!” said Father Brisdone.
“I was just in the humour,” said Master Peasegood. “I am just in the humour now. Why I’d rather marry the poor girl myself than see her handed over to that court pie.”
“And Master Cobbe—what says he?”
“That he’d sooner see her in her grave.”