“Thou’rt another!”
CHAPTER XXII
Not John Cobb but Thomas Bettany, who knew whom here he could trust, sat on a Wednesday afternoon in gaoler’s room, drank ale with Godfrey and once more petitioned for one look at the witch.
“Nay, nay!” said Godfrey and shook his huge head. “Rule is rule! Time was I wouldn’t ha’ minded pleasuring you, Master Thomas, but word has come and a downright word, too, from powers. ‘Look you, Godfrey, that you do not open that door to any save Father Edmund who preaches to witch so that it may not be said she goes to hell without preaching!’ So I do not so. You are not the first gallant who hath come and said, ‘Godfrey, let me have a look at the witch!’ But no, says I to all. Rule is rule!” He set down his can. “I could tell you, but I won’t. Not just young will-o’-wisps like you, but one that’s older and should be weightier! But I won’t call name.”
“I can call it for you,” thought the other. “It was Somerville.”
“Coming by night, too!” said Godfrey.
Young Master Thomas Bettany made a pettish movement. “Saint John! What’s the use of carrying that great bunch of keys if you cannot turn them at your will! Let me weigh them now!”
Godfrey, smiling broadly, laid the bunch on table. He was a giant, and Thomas Bettany had been known to him since he was urchin and went by to school. “Great key—inner ward—key you turn on her?”