Endicott paid no attention to the question, but went on.
"What is thy profession of faith?"
"I am a Christian, and most miserable sinner."
"Aye, but Protestant or Catholic?"
"Protestant," answered the lady, with an inflexion of the voice which made it difficult to decide whether the word was intended for an ejaculation, a question, or a declaration. "Holy Virgin!" she murmured, so low as not to be overheard, "forgive me this half lie. Not for my own sake do my lips utter it, and my heart abhors it."
The answer seemed to take Endicott by surprise.
"Have heed to thy words," he said. "We are well advised that this runnigadoe and thyself were, until of late at least, at Rome."
"You seem to know all things," said the lady, scornfully, "and I wonder why ye trouble yourselves with anything that an ignorant woman can say. Have it as you will."
"Hath not our examination proceeded far enough?" asked Sir Richard. "Is there aught else ye expect to elicit?"
"The woman, I think, hath confessed the whole," said Dudley. "She openly admits that this Gardiner, or whatever else be his name, is her paramour; and, for the remainder, what hath been wrested from her by her own contradictions, sufficiently confounds her."