of Yarmouth none other than my father, who had been absent some eight
years in all. Nor did he come alone, for with him he brought a wife,
a young and very lovely lady, who afterwards was my mother. She was a
Spaniard of noble family, having been born at Seville, and her maiden
name was Donna Luisa de Garcia.


Now of all that befell my father during his eight years of wandering I
cannot speak certainly, for he was very silent on the matter, though I
may have need to touch on some of his adventures. But I know it is true
that he fell under the power of the Holy Office, for once when as a
little lad I bathed with him in the Elbow Pool, where the river Waveney
bends some three hundred yards above this house, I saw that his breast
and arms were scored with long white scars, and asked him what had
caused them. I remember well how his face changed as I spoke, from
kindliness to the hue of blackest hate, and how he answered speaking to
himself rather than to me.

'Devils,' he said, 'devils set on their work by the chief of all devils
that live upon the earth and shall reign in hell. Hark you, my son
Thomas, there is a country called Spain where your mother was born, and
there these devils abide who torture men and women, aye, and burn them
living in the name of Christ. I was betrayed into their hands by him
whom I name the chief of the devils, though he is younger than I am by
three years, and their pincers and hot irons left these marks upon me.
Aye, and they would have burnt me alive also, only I escaped, thanks to
your mother--but such tales are not for a little lad's hearing; and see
you never speak of them, Thomas, for the Holy Office has a long arm. You
are half a Spaniard, Thomas, your skin and eyes tell their own tale, but
whatever skin and eyes may tell, let your heart give them the lie. Keep