Judge Marriott,
busily awaiting his learned brother, chuckled at the innovation. It was
like Jeffreys--an original thing, a stroke of genius. Men quaked because
of those scarlet hangings; this was to be no ordinary assizes, but a
marked occasion which should put fear into the souls of all who should
even think upon rebellion. Some man, in an awed undertone, spoke of it
as a bloody assizes, and the name passed from lip to lip until it
reached Judge Marriott's lodging. He chuckled still more, and said to
those about him that Jeffreys would act up to the name, here and
wherever else in this cursed West Country there were prisoners to be
punished.
Bloody Assizes! It was almost the first articulate sound that Lord
Rosmore heard as he galloped into the town, a troop of men about him,
and those who watched him pass knew that the judge must be on his way
from Winchester. Rosmore laughed, but his thoughts were complex, schemes
ran riot in his brain. Immediately upon entering his lodging he sent for
Watson and Sayers, and was restless until they came.
He looked quickly towards the door as it opened.
"The lady is safe in Dorchester," said Watson.
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