"By this time Affonzo was reading her letter. The crowd by the water's edge had found a boat at length—how, I know not; but it was a very little one, holding but six men besides the one rower, and then over-laden. They pulled towards us and hailed just as the lady took the master's promise and went down to seek her cabin: and one of the men stood up, a tall gentleman with a chain about his neck. Affonzo went to the side to parley with him.
"The tall man with the chain cried out that he was mayor or provost—I forget which—and the woman must be given up as a proved witch who had laid the wickedest spells upon many citizens of Dunquerque. All this he had to shout; for Affonzo, who—either ignorantly or by choice—was already on Satan's side, would not suffer him to come aboard or even nigh the ship's ladder. Moreover, he drove below so many of our crew as had gathered to the side to listen, commanding me with curses to see to this. Yet I heard something of the mayor's accusation; which was that the woman had come to Dunquerque, travelling as a great lady with a retinue of servants and letters of commendation to the religious houses, on which and on many private persons of note she had bestowed relics of our Lord and the saints, pretending it was for a penance that she journeyed and gave the bounties: but that, at a certain hour, these relics had turned into toads, adders, and all manner of abominable offal, defiling the holy places and private shrines, in some instances the very church
