“Good,” said Emlyn, “that is my mind also, I only spoke for your sake,” and she went out and told the Abbot.
He came into Cicely’s chamber and raged at them. He said that they should be excommunicated, then tortured and then burned; but Cicely, whom he had thought to frighten, never winced.
“If so, so let it be,” she replied, “and I will bear all as best I can. I know nothing of these jewels, but if they still exist they are mine, not yours, and I am innocent of any witchcraft. Do your work, for I am sure that the end shall be far other than you think.”
“What!” said the Abbot, “has the foul fiend been with you again that you talk thus certainly? Well, Sorceress, soon you will sing another tune,” and he went to the door and summoned the Prioress.
“Put these women upon bread and water,” he said, “and prepare them for the rack, that they may discover their accomplices.”
Mother Matilda set her gentle face, and answered—
“It shall not be done in this Nunnery, my Lord Abbot. I know the law, and you have no such power. Moreover, if you move them hence, who are my guests, I appeal to the King, and meanwhile raise the country on you.”
“Said I not that they had accomplices?” sneered the Abbot, and went his way.
But of the torture no more was heard, for that appeal to the King had an ill sound in his ears.