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Then
she lit a taper from the glowing embers of the fire, but her hands were shaking
so much that she found it impossible to transfer the flame to the wicks. 
From the corner of her eye she watched as Sir Edmund pulled off his gloves and
threw them irritably to the table.  She flinched as he moved towards her,
but he merely took the taper from her hand and lit the candles and a lamp
himself.
    “They are all I have!” she burst out as the room filled with
light.  He looked down at her.  “We are short of oil and wax. 
We are short of everything,” she told him as if it was his fault.
    “I will not be long and then you may extinguish them again,”
he told her as he held the lamp up to the walls and turned to survey the hall,
confirming to himself that there were no hiding places.  “Where does that
door lead?”
    “To the bedchamber.  But my daughters are sleeping
there,” she added as he strode towards it.  She caught at his arm but he
brushed her aside and pushed open the door and went in.  Mabel rushed
after him, afraid and also angry at his intrusion.  “There is no one else
here.”
    She watched as he ignored her pleas. She glanced at the
coffer, filled with their valuables, but he didn’t touch it.  He pulled
aside the bed hangings and the covers on her bed and bent to look underneath
before holding the light up towards the rafters to check that nobody was
concealing themselves up there.  Then he turned and held the lamp out
towards Bella and Amelia.  Mabel saw their stricken faces as they stared
up at this imposing stranger; Bella with her arms around her little sister as
they cowered together
    “Get up!” he told them.
    “Please!” begged Mabel. “They are only children.”
    “Get up,” he repeated, and although his voice was gentler in
tone none of them could mistake his determination.  Mabel nodded and her
daughters ran to her.  She covered them with her arms as they shook
against her, their thin, barely clad bodies shivering with cold and terror as
they watched Sir Edmund turn for one last sweep of the bedchamber.
    Mabel held the girls close and comforted them as Sir Edmund
searched the kitchen and buttery and bake house before he was satisfied. 
Then he returned and stood in the doorway to the bedchamber and watched her for
a moment as she stroked and kissed the heads of her children.
    “Has your husband returned here?” he asked.
    “No.”  She was angry with herself for allowing her voice
to quaver as she spoke.  Sir Edmund watched her for what seemed like
endless time.
    “Don’t make the mistake of thinking that you can hide him
from me,” he told her at last.   “He is a rebel and a traitor and I
am determined to bring him to justice.  I will come back, and I will keep
coming back, until you either show me where he is hidden or tell me where he
can be found.”
    “I do not know where he is,” she repeated.
    “For now I believe you,” said Sir Edmund.  “But they all
creep home sooner or later, and when he does he will be mine.”
    “And what then?” asked Mabel, though she immediately regretted
asking such a question in front of the girls.
    “That is for a judge to decide,” remarked Sir Edmund as he
met her eyes reluctantly.  But Mabel did not need to be told that if
William fell into this man’s hands it would mean his certain death.  “For
now I will wish you good day,” he added, then hesitated.  “And I offer my
apologies if I have distressed your daughters.”
    Mabel watched as he put out all but the one candle, glanced
at Calab who barked at him menacingly and then left, closing the main door behind
him.  As her daughters clung to her with their small hands she listened as
he gave orders to his men and within a few minutes she heard them move away and
a tense silence filled the house, punctuated only by occasional barks from
Calab.
    At last Mabel thought it was safe.  She rubbed the arms
and backs of the girls and tried to reassure them.