But as the door closed he shouted after me, 'Tell the King's officers to burn this rats' nest and take no heed of Christopher Harflete, who desires to die!'" "Why does he desire to die ?" asked Cicely again.
"Because he thinks his wife dead, Mistress, as I did, and believes that in the forest he heard her voice calling him to join her." "Oh God! oh God!" moaned Cicely; "I shall be his death." "Not so," answered Jeffrey.

"Do you know so little of Christopher Harflete that you think he would sell the King's cause to gain his own life?
Why, if you yourself came and pleaded with him he would thrust you away, saying, 'Get thee behind me, Satan!'" "I believe it, and I am proud," muttered Cicely.

"If need be, let Harflete die, we'll keep his honour and our own lest he should live to curse us.

Go on." "Well, they led me to the Abbot, who gave me that letter which you have, and bade me take it and tell the case to whoever commanded here.

Then he lifted up his hand and, laying it on the crucifix about his neck, swore that this was no idle threat, but that unless his terms were taken, Harflete should hang from the tower top at to-morrow's dawn, adding, though I knew not what he meant, 'I think you'll find one yonder who will listen to that reasoning.' Now he was dismissing me when a soldier said-- "'Is it wise to free this Stokes?
You forget, my Lord Abbot, that he is alleged to have witnessed a certain slaying yonder in the forest and will bear evidence.' 'Aye,' answered Maldon, 'I had forgotten who in this press remembered only that no other man would be believed.