"Softly, Mary! In this matter we must move slowly and with caution."
"Thy friendship for this man makes thee weak."
"Come, come, Mary!" said her brother, testily; "'tis time we discovered whether this province is to be ruled by men or women. Elinor calls me hard of heart for persecuting Christopher Neville; Margaret calls me a fool for suspecting him; now you will have me a weakling for not hanging him out of hand. I tell thee I will have no more meddling in this case; when I see my duty clear before me, I will do it. Till then I bid thee hold thy peace."
Brent's last words were overheard by the worthy Masters Neale and Cornwaleys, who followed close after them.
"The Governor is nigh distraught over this wretched business," said Neale, meditatively stroking the tuft on his chin.
"And well he may be," replied Cornwaleys. "It needs but a small torch to light such a flame of religious dissension here in Maryland as a century shall not suffice to extinguish."
"Yet you would not have the guilty escape?"
"Why not Neville as well as Ingle? Better that than set the province afire. Besides, so many innocent must needs suffer with the guilty. Look at that little sister of Neville's! Yesterday she was gay as a lark; to-day she can scarce lift her swollen eyelids. Poor child! I would I could help her."