Godfrey nodded. “Eh, eh! She has been a fair woman, has she not, and danced lightly? Marsh fire, will-o’-wisp! Now she lies all her length on cold ground, and when I open the door she saith, ‘Is’t Friday?’”
“Hark ye! Some one’s knocking.”
Godfrey turned head. “It sounds as they were!” Rising from table, he went to the door. “Nay, only noise in the street.”
“I thought it was the other door.”
Godfrey stepped from the room and walked a little way down the stone passage. He returned. “‘Tis nothing! And William sits there to answer.”
“If William wakes now how doth he keep awake by door yonder at night?”
“He gets sleep enough. Prowling around, sometimes I find him sleeping when he should be waking! But there be few in prison and little trouble. In old times, when the kings were fighting together, it was different!”
He took up the keys and fastened them at his belt. “If any could bring witch to confession you’d think it would be Father Edmund, wouldn’t ye? But she’s like a block!”
“Confess what?”