The earl's face grew dark while I spoke, and when I had ended, he said—
"The peine forte et dure might extort a less plausible story."
"The prisoner to be laid on his back, and to have iron placed on his breast, as much as he can bear and more, and to be fed with bad bread and stagnant water on alternate days until he testifies truly or dies," murmured the secretary, as if he read from a book.
I saw no reason why I should answer, and there was a long silence. At last the earl asked—
"Who were present when you struck the blow?"
"Doctor Goel, his daughter, and their serving-maid."
"Where are they now?"
"As I hope and believe, in their own country."
"They fled at your suggestion?"
"Not because they feared to bear testimony for me, but having too much reason to dread persecution themselves."