“Yes, yes!” they cried, and threw their arms around his neck.
“You cannot go to-day. I do not wish it,” said Sir Thomas in a decided manner.
Words cannot describe the sufferings of this great man; he knew that he would no more behold his home or his children, and that, determined not to take the oath which he regarded as the first step toward apostasy in a Christian, they would not pardon him. He cast a last look upon his family and hurried toward the door.
“You will come back to-morrow, will you not, father?” cried the children in one voice.
He could not reply; but this question re-echoed sadly in the depths of his soul. He hastened on still more rapidly. Roper, who knew no more than the others, was alarmed at the alteration he saw in the features of Sir Thomas, and began to fear that something had happened still more distressing than what he had already heard. However, More had told them so far that it was impossible for him to be found guilty in the affair of the
Holy Maid of Kent, but Roper knew not even who she was. The absence of Margaret alone seemed to him inexplicable. Entirely absorbed in these reflections, he followed Sir Thomas, who walked with extraordinary rapidity, and they very soon reached the green gate.
“Come, my son,” said Sir Thomas, “hasten and open the gate; time presses.”
Roper felt in his belt; he found he had not the key.
“I have not the key,” he said. “I must return.”
“O God!” exclaimed Sir Thomas when he found himself alone; and he seated himself on the step of the little stairway, for he felt no longer able to stand on his feet.