The Golden Grasshopper | Page 7

nurse; and honest,
good Gunter too! Let me go, I say, that I may help them!"
The English party were too far off to allow those on the stage to
observe them. Even the servants refused to recant, though promised
their lives and liberty if they would do so.
Karl Van Verner and his wife were led down from the platform by the
steps towards the two stakes, which stood close to each other. And now
the members of the brotherhood on whom had been imposed the sad
office of executing the victims, rushed forward with faggots, which
they piled up round them. Two professional executioners, who had
been summoned for the purpose, secured the victims by the chains to
the stakes. While fire was set to the piles, the members of the
brotherhood burst forth into a melancholy miserere, which rose up even
above the groans and sighs of the people.
Master Gresham ordered his attendants to try and force their way out
of the crowd. At length, many persons, unwilling to witness the
suffering of the victims, retired along the various streets leading into
the Mere, thus giving an opportunity to the English party to retreat.
Once more the young boy cast a terrified glance towards the horrible
spectacle, when the groom, in mercy, throwing a cloak round his head,
pushed on through the crowd, the whole party making their way as
rapidly as they could towards the royal merchant's residence.
For days, for months, for years even, did that dreadful spectacle occur
again and again to the mind of the child. Thus perished his parents,
with their two faithful attendants, their only crime that of reading God's

Word, singing His praises, and holding together family prayer.
Theirs was no solitary fate. Every week, every day almost, victims were
offered up to the papal Moloch by those who thus hoped to stamp out
the very existence of Protestantism from the land. Vain efforts! The
seed of religious truth, scattered far and wide, was springing up and
bearing fruit--sometimes bitter enough, it must be owned--but such as
was not to be destroyed by Roman Pontiff or Spanish King.
CHAPTER THREE.
NEWS FROM ENGLAND.
For several days the young Ernst did not recover from the effects of the
dreadful scene he had witnessed. No smile ever beamed on his
countenance, his cheeks were pale, his eyes dim. His kind protectors
began to fear that he had received a blow which might cast a gloom
over his life, if it did not quickly shorten it. Even Sir John De Leigh,
the philosopher, the man of the world, who declared that no
circumstances of life, no human suffering, should produce any effect on
the mind of a man of sense, compassionated the orphan boy. He even
condescended to call the child to him, to tell him of the scenes he had
witnessed in foreign lands--how he had seen the Grand Bashaw and the
Great Mogul,--the splendour of their palaces, and the obedience of their
subjects; how he himself had ridden under a silken canopy on the back
of a huge elephant, and traversed the burning desert, placed between
the humps of a swift dromedary. By degrees he won back the boy to
take an interest in what was going on around him, though often little
Ernst would start, and burst forth again into bitter tears.
The boy and his young companion were, for a large portion of each day,
with the Lady Anne, who took a pleasure in instructing him. Already he
could read without difficulty, and she now placed paper and pen in his
hand, and instructed him in the art of writing, an art very soon to stand
him in good stead, and to enable him to serve his generous patron,
Master Gresham.
Of that kind patron some account ought now to be given.

Master Thomas Gresham came, so Ernst believed, of a line of
honourable merchants. Sir Richard Gresham, his father, of whom he
was the youngest son, died some three years before this, having been
some time Lord Mayor of London. Sir Richard had a brother, Sir John
Gresham, who was employed as Royal agent to King Henry the Eighth
in Flanders, a post to which the patron of Ernst Verner afterwards
succeeded. Sir Richard's eldest son was named after his uncle, and
became Sir John Gresham. Sir Richard had two daughters, the eldest of
whom married the wealthy Sir John Thynne, of Longleat, in Wiltshire.
Although it was not customary for merchants to send their sons to
college, so much talent was exhibited by Thomas Gresham, that his
father determined to give him the advantage of a University education.
When only three years old he was deprived of his mother's care, a loss
he ever bewailed. According to his