“I should go mad,” she muttered; and she paused to think whether it would be better to try a bribe.
“She wants too much money, and if I did silence her now she would be pestering me with claims for more, and threaten and harass me. No, mother; you have opened the battle again, so now let us see which of us is the stronger.”
Hurrying to her father’s room lest her mind should change, Anne had a long colloquy with him, introducing the subject of witchcraft incidentally.
“Sir Mark tells me, father, that his Majesty strongly approves of efforts being made to keep down witches in this country.”
“Yes, my dear, so I heard Sir Mark say,” replied Sir Thomas, putting on his carplike visage, and gaping and panting at his daughter, as his eyes stood out wide and round.
“Why should you not do something to commend yourself to the King?”
“But what could I do, child?” said Sir Thomas.
“True, there is nothing you could, unless you arrested Mother Goodhugh.”
“You forbad it once, but the very thing!” cried Sir Thomas, eagerly.
“But she is not a witch,” said Anne, dubiously.