Little Geoffrey slowly recovered from the illness which had brought him to death's door, and though able to run about the house, he was still far from perfect health, when Margery received orders to prepare for another interview with Abbot Bilson. She rightly divined that this would be more stormy than the last. Abbot Bilson came now fully prepared, and not alone. He was accompanied by Archbishop Arundel, a man of violent pa.s.sions, and a bitter persecutor of all whom he conceived to lean to the opinions of Wycliffe. When Margery entered the room, and saw the Archbishop, she trembled, as well she might. She meekly knelt and asked their blessing--the manner in which priests were commonly greeted. The Abbot gave his, saying, "May G.o.d bless thee, and lead thee unto the truth!"

"Amen!" responded Margery. Arundel, however, refused his benediction until he had inquired into the matter.

"Be seated, my daughter!" said the Abbot. Margery obeyed.

"Holy Church, daughter, hath been sore aggrieved by thine evil doing.

She demandeth of thee an instant yielding of yon heretical and pernicious book, the which hath led thee astray; and a renunciation of thy heresy; the which done, thou shalt receive apostolic absolution and benediction."

"I know not, reverend father, what ye clepe [call] heresy. Wherein have I sinned?"

"In the reading of yon book, and in thy seldom confession. Moreover, I trow thou holdest with the way of John Wycliffe, yon evil reprobate!"

replied the Archbishop.

"I cry you mercy, reverend fathers. I take my belief from no man. I crede [believe] the words of Christ as I find the same written, and concern not myself with Master Wycliffe or any other. I know not any Lollards, neither have I allied myself unto them."

The Archbishop and the Abbot both looked at Lord Marnell--a mute inquiry as to whether Margery spoke the truth.

"I ween it is so, reverend fathers," said he. "I wis nought of my wife her manner of living ere I wedded her, but soothly sithence [since] she came hither, I know of a surety that she hath never companied with any such evil persons as be these Lollards."

"Hold you _not_ with the way of Wycliffe, daughter?" inquired the Abbot.

"I wis not, reverend father," answered she, "for of a truth I know not wherein it lieth. I hold that which I find in the book; and I trow an'

I keep close by the words of Christ, I cannot stray far from truth."

"The words in yon book be no words of Christ!" said Arundel. "That evil one Wycliffe, being taught of the devil, hath rendered the holy words of the Latin into pernicious heresy in English."

"I pray you then, father, will you give me the book in Latin, for I wis a little the Latin tongue, and moreover I can learn of one that hath the tongues to wit better the same."

This was not by any means what Arundel intended, and it raised his anger.

"I will not give thee the Latin!" exclaimed he. "I forbid thee to read or learn the same, for I well know thou wouldst wrest it to thine evil purposes."

"How can you put a right meaning to the words, my daughter?" mildly suggested the Abbot.

"I know well that I could in no wise do the same," replied Margery, humbly, "had I not read the promise of Christ Jesu that He would send unto His own '_thilk Spyryt of treuthe_,' who should '_teche them al treuthe_,' [John xvi. 13] wherefore by His good help I trust I shall read aright."

"That promise was given, daughter, unto the holy apostles."

"It was given, reverend father, unto weak men and evil, else Peter had never denied his Master, ne [neither] had all of them left Him and taken to flight, when the servants of the bishops [see Note 1] laid hold on Him. I wis that I have an evil heart like as they had, but meseemeth that mine is not worser than were theirs, wherefore I count that promise made unto myself also."

"Thou art lacking in meekness, Madge," said Lord Marnell.

"I trust not so, good my Lord; but an' if I be, I pray G.o.d to give it to me."

"Give up the book, Madge!" said her husband, apparently desirous to allay the storm which he had raised, "and thou shalt then receive absolution, and all will go well."

"I will give up the book, my Lord, in obedience to you," replied Margery, "for I wis well that wives be bounden to obey their husbands; and soothly it is no great matter, for I know every word therein. But under your good leave, my Lord, the truth which this book hath taught me, neither you nor any other man shall have power to take from me, for it is of G.o.d, and not of men!"

She drew the book from her pocket--ladies wore much larger pockets in those days than they now do--kissed it, and handed it to her husband.

"Thou hast well done, Madge!" said Lord Marnell, more kindly than before, as he pa.s.sed the book to the Archbishop. Arundel, with a muttered curse upon all evil teaching, took the book from Lord Marnell with his hand folded in the corner of his gown, as if he thought its very touch would communicate pollution, and flung it into the fire. The fire was a large one, and in a minute the volume was consumed. Margery watched the destruction of her treasure with swimming eyes.

"Burn, poor book!" she said, falteringly, "and as thy smoke goeth up to G.o.d, leave it tell Him that the reading and the loving of His Word is accounted a sin by those who ought to be His pastors."

"Woman, wilt not hear the truth?" cried Arundel.

"Truly, father, I have heard it, and it shall rest with me unto my dying day. But I trow that if your teaching were truth, ye had never burned with fire the Word of Christ, who hath power, if ye repent not, to consume you also with the like!"

"Told I not thee that the evil book which I gave to the fire was not Christ His Word, but the work of the devil?"

"Yea, truly; and the like said the heathen Jews, '_Wher we seyen not wel that thou art a Samaritan, and hast a deuel_?' But I find not that their saying the same made it ever the truer. What saith Christ in answer? '_I haue not a deuel; but I honoure my Fadir, and ye han unhonourid me_.'" [John viii. 48, 49.]

"My daughter," said the Abbot, with even more than his usual gentleness, "I mis...o...b.. greatly that you be obstinate in your error. And if this be so, we shall have necessity of deeds the which we should sore lament.

You wit, doubtless, that in case you continue thus obstinate, you will be had up afore the King's Grace's Council?"

"I am ready," answered Margery.

"You wit also," pursued the Abbot, no less gently, "that you may be sentenced unto close prison for such time as pleaseth the King's Grace?"

"I am ready," said Margery again.

Her examiners looked surprised.

"Moreover," continued the Abbot, in a softer tone than ever, "wit you that we can allow you no longer to have the charge and teaching of your son, who must needs be instructed in the true faith?"

The end of the reverend fathers was at length reached. The quiet words of the Abbot produced an effect which the furious abuse of the Archbishop had been unable to accomplish. A cry of mingled terror, anguish, and despair, broke from poor Margery's lips.

"Ye could not--ye could not be so cruel!" she sobbed. "Take from me all I have in this world--comfort, freedom, yea, life--only leave me my child!"

"Thou seest what thou hast brought on thyself!" said Arundel. "How can we, being the ministers of G.o.d His truth, suffer the mind of yon innocent child to be poisoned with like evil doctrine?"

"Doth G.o.d part the child from the mother?" faltered Margery. "This is none of His doing. My darling! my darling!"

Lord Marnell pitied his wife. Her agony touched all that was soft and gentle in his not too soft heart.

"Well, well, Madge!" he said, kindly; "I will see that thy child is not taken from thee, if thou wilt obey these reverend fathers in confessing of thine error, and wilt humbly beg absolution at their hands."

Margery looked up at her husband with an expression of unutterable grat.i.tude beaming in her eyes--but the moment she heard his if, her face fell instantly.

"I conceive you, good my Lord," she said, mournfully, "howsoever I thank you. You will give me back my darling, if I will deny that I hold Christ His truth. I cannot. I dare not!"

"'Christ His truth,' persist you in calling your heresy!" cried Arundel, in a fury. "Choose, then, quickly, for the last time, betwixt 'Christ His truth' and your child!"

She shivered from head to foot as if an ague-fit were on her, and her sobs almost mounted to a scream. No heart that had any pretension to humanity could have helped pitying her. Her husband did pity her; but Arundel was carried away by pa.s.sion, and Bilson had no heart. Through all this tempest, however agonised, firm and unwavering came the answer--

"Christ!"

Arundel, rising, ordered her to kneel. Margery knelt down on the hearth, her hands clasped on her breast, and her eyes looking up to heaven. Solemnly, and with all that terrific majesty which the Church of Rome so well knows how to put into her threats and denunciations, the Archbishop cited her to appear before the council on the 17th day of the following September. In the meantime she was to be confined in one of the State dungeons. Arundel graciously added that he would give her the remainder of that day to make her preparations. Lord Marnell here interposed, and begged the Archbishop to reconsider his decision. He had antic.i.p.ated Margery's examination by the council, and possibly her being sentenced to a term of imprisonment, but he had not bargained for this previous incarceration. Arundel bluntly refused to alter his sentence.