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"My lord, is it believable that there was warrant for this man's
ferocious doom?"
"It is the law, your Grace--for poisoners. In Germany coiners be boiled
to death in OIL--not cast in of a sudden, but by a rope let down into the
oil by degrees, and slowly; first the feet, then the legs, then--"
"
O prithee no more, my lord, I cannot bear it!" cried Tom, covering his
eyes with his hands to shut out the picture. "I beseech your good
lordship that order be taken to change this law--oh, let no more poor
creatures be visited with its tortures."
The Earl's face showed profound gratification, for he was a man of
merciful and generous impulses--a thing not very common with his class in
that fierce age. He said--
"
These your Grace's noble words have sealed its doom. History will
remember it to the honour of your royal house."
The under-sheriff was about to remove his prisoner; Tom gave him a sign
to wait; then he said--
"
Good sir, I would look into this matter further. The man has said his
deed was but lamely proved. Tell me what thou knowest."
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