Edith stepped quickly up to her son and knelt before him—
"Oh Stephen, my son, my first-born—thy mother kneels to thee. Lay aside that lance and hearken to the words of her who bore thee, and nourished thee. Oh, bring not sorrow and ruin on thyself and her! What would be the bitterness of my dying moments if my son lived not to lay me beside his father?—if thy Margaret was left to mourn in lowly widowhood—and, perhaps, to fall beneath the base arts of Calverley! Oh, my son, my son, by the soul of thy dead father, and by the blessing of thy mother, resist not!—Hark! they come—they come! Haste, Stephen—Give me the weapon."
Holgrave, shocked and agitated, could only think of raising his mother from her knees. He suffered her, without resistance, to take the lance from his hand, and then attempt, with her weak fingers, to remove the barricade, while advancing footsteps were heard without.
The hostile party reached the cottage, and the latch was quickly raised; but, finding it resist their attempts, the voice of Calverley, in an authoritative tone, pronounced—
"In the name of the Lord Roland de Boteler, I demand the body of Edith Holgrave, who is accused of the foul crimes of witchcraft and murder.—Open the door, Stephen Holgrave, if you are within!"
"Fiend of hell! it is he!" muttered Holgrave, gnashing his teeth, but without moving.
The party without seemed to have expected resistance; for the next moment a blow was struck upon the door which made the whole house shake; and the besieged perceived that they were forcing an entrance with the trunk of a young tree, or some such machine, in imitation of the ram, not yet disused in warfare. Speedily the timber yielded and cracked; and Holgrave, starting from the stupor in which he was plunged, caught up the axe, and posted himself in an attitude of striking near the door.
"Pollute not thy hand with the blood of the base," said Edith, grasping her son's arm—"Judgment is mine, saith the Lord!"
"Thomas Calverley," continued she, in a loud calm voice, "produce your warrant!"
"The word of the Lord de Boteler," replied Calverley, "is warrant enough for the capture of the murderess of his child. Surrender, Stephen Holgrave, I command!"