It was difficult for Sir Oliver to see his way all in a moment. To oppose this scheme or to submit to it appeared alike dangerous. His independence and honest English pride revolted against any attempt to coerce him in his domestic arrangements, or to submit to interference there, even from the ministers of the Church.
But it was needful to walk warily, and the prior was watching him as a cat does a mouse.
"Will you give me a few days to consider this matter?" he asked, in as easy a tone as he could. "Your reverence knows that changes are not of themselves welcome to me; and my sons have made such progress with Brother Emmanuel that I am something loath to part with him. Also, they are at this moment going through a course of study which none other could conclude with the same advantage. Brother Fabian is doubtless an excellent brother of his order, but he has scarce the same learning as Brother Emmanuel. Nevertheless, I will well consider the change proposed, and give it all dutiful heed. But I should like to speak with my wife anent the matter, and learn her will. It is not a matter of pressing haste, by what I have gathered from your words?"
"No, not one of pressing haste. Yet I would not long delay," answered the prior. "I may not speak too openly, but there be reasons why I would have Brother Emmanuel beneath this roof once more. I will leave thee one week to consider and to get the course of study completed. At the week's end, methinks, I shall be constrained to bid Brother Emmanuel return home. But if all be well after a short time has sped by, he may return again to thee."
Sir Oliver was looking full at the handsome but crafty face of the prior, and as the last words passed his lips he saw a flicker in the eyes which made him say within his heart:
"If Brother Emmanuel once re-enters these walls, he will never sally forth again. Mischief is meant him; of that I am convinced. What must I do? Must I give him up to his death? And how can I save him, even if I would?"
These thoughts were surging in his heart as he rode home. The peril he had feared against those of his own name and race had been averted. The payment of what was practically a heavy fine would secure to the boys immunity from the results of their rashness; but with the monk it was far different. What had aroused the animosity of the fraternity, and why mischief was planned against him, Sir Oliver could not divine; but that something had occurred to arouse it he could not doubt.
No sooner had he reached home than he sought Brother Emmanuel in his own bare room, and laid before him the account of what had passed.
A strange look crossed the young monk's face.
"Then it is known!" he said simply.
"What is known?"
"That I am the author of a certain pamphlet, written some while ago, and taken to Germany to be printed, giving an account of some of the corruptions and abuses that have stolen into the Church, and in especial into the monasteries and religious houses of this land. I could not choose but write it. If the Church is to be saved, it can only be by her repudiation of such corruptions, and by a process of self cleansing that none can do for her. I always knew that if suspected my life would pay the forfeit; but I know not how the authorship has been discovered. Yet the great ones of the land have ways we know not of; and if the truth is not known, it is suspected. I am to go back to the priory; but once there, I shall never go forth again. Yet what matter? I always knew if the thing were known my life would .pay the forfeit. I wrote as the Spirit bid me; I know that God was with me then. I am ready to lay down my life in a good cause; I am not afraid what man can do unto me."
Sir Oliver looked into that young face, which the martyr spirit illuminated and glorified, and an answering spark kindled in his own eyes.
"If that is thine offence, and not the alleged one of heresy, I will stand thy friend," he said; "and thou shalt not go forth from Chad to thy death so long as I have a roof to shelter thee. I will stand thy friend and protector so long as I have a house to call mine own."
Chapter VI: Watched!
"I am glad thou hast so resolved, my husband; but hast thou considered what it may mean to thee?"
Lady Chadgrove spoke gently, laying her hand upon her husband's arm with a gesture unwontedly tender; for neither was demonstrative of the deep affection which existed between them, and he knew that only strong emotion evoked such action from her.
"I know that if I refuse to give up Brother Emmanuel I may draw down upon myself stern admonition, and perchance something worse, but I mean not that it come to open defiance of any injunction from the Church. Brother Emmanuel must leave Chad secretly, and be far away ere the week of grace expires. We are but twenty miles from the coast. This very day I shall ride thither and see what small trading vessels are in the bay about to fare forth to foreign shores. I shall negotiate with some skipper making for some Dutch port to carry thither the person whom I shall describe to him, and who will show him this ring"--and Sir Oliver displayed an emerald upon his own finger--"in token that he is the person to be taken aboard. Those trading skippers are used to such jobs, and if they be paid they know how to hold their peace and ask no questions. In Holland the brother will be safer than in any other land. The spite of the Prior of Chadwater is not like to pursue him there. But here his life is not safe from hour to hour."
"And how if it comes to be known that thou hast planned this escape?" asked the lady, a little anxiously.
"I have thought of that too, dame," replied the knight, smiling. "Let but the good brother be safely out of the country, and whilst the hue and cry is still going on here after him I will to the king and tell him all the story. Our pious Dean Colet, who knows Brother Emmanuel, and knows, too, that it is meet the corrupt practices that have crept within the pale of Holy Church should be made known, that they may be swept away and reformed, will stand my friend, and together we can so persuade his Majesty that even if the prior and Mortimer both combine to accuse me before him he will not allow their spite to touch me. The king knows right well that there is need of amendment within the Church herself. We have heard words spoken in the Cathedral of London which would be accounted rank heresy here. There is light abroad which must one day reach to the ends of the earth, and truly it sometimes seemeth to me that if the priests, the abbots, and the monks set their faces steadfastly against this light, they will fall into some terrible pitfall, but they will never quench the light with their united strength."
The lady gave one quick glance round, as though afraid that even the walls might have ears, and such sentiments were not those that it was safe to blazon abroad. But Sir Oliver, strong in the consciousness of his own deep and abiding love for the Church and for all the doctrines which she upheld, was bold to speak his mind in private when the subject broached was the one of corruptions and abuses which some of the sturdiest and noblest sons of the Church were now engaged in examining and denouncing, none dreaming of charging them with heresy on that account.
But the mother had noted the presence of Edred, who had come in quietly whilst the discussion was going on, and was now standing listening to his father's words with kindling eyes; and she made a sign to her husband which caused him to turn round, and then the boy spoke.
"The horses are ready at the door, father, and Bertram prays that he may accompany thee. He is donning his riding dress already."
"With all my heart," answered the knight readily, "an he can ride the forty miles betwixt this and tomorrow at the same hour; for I do not purpose to be long absent."
"Bertram would ride all day and all night and feel it not," answered Edred with a proud smile; "and he loves the sight and the smell of the salt sea, and would be loath to miss the chance of seeing it. Father, art thou going to aid Brother Emmanuel to fly? Is there peril for him abroad?"
The knight bent a quick, keen glance upon his son.
"I fear so, my boy; and Brother Emmanuel himself thinks that ill is meant him. And it is better to seek safety in flight at the first hint of danger than to dally and delay, and perhaps find at last that it is too late to fly. Thou, my son, wilt for this one day and night be left in charge of thy mother and thy home and all within it; for I must needs take with me Warbel and a score of our stoutest fellows, for the lonely road to the coast is none too safe for travellers of the better sort. Be thou watchful and vigilant, and keep thine eyes and thine ears alike open. Heed well that the gates be closed early, and that all be made safe, and let not Brother Emmanuel adventure himself without the walls. Use all discretion and heed, and fare thee well. I shall reach the coast tonight, and do my business with all speed, and be in the saddle again with the light of dawn, so thou mayest look to see us again before noon."
And with a tender farewell to his wife, the knight mounted and rode away with his gallant little train; and the lady looked after him from the window, and said to Edred, who quickly came to her to learn more, if he could, of the words he had recently heard:
"Now may the blessed saints and our Lord Himself be with him! for no braver and truer gentleman lives in the length and breadth of this land. There be few, indeed, who would imperil their own safety rather than yield up one who is after all little more than a stranger. Heaven send that he repent not this deed! May God be with him in all his ways!"
"My mother," said Edred cautiously, "is it that Brother Emmanuel is in sore peril? He is so devout and faithful a son of the Church that it is hard to credit it."
"In sooth, my son, these be matters hard to be understood; but thy father truly holds that he were safer out of this country and out of reach of the Prior of Chadwater and the Lord of Mortimer. Men's words can be turned and twisted till the best may be accused of heresy; and again, if a monk has fallen beneath the wrath of his superior, no man may tell what would befall were he to return to the power of his spiritual father. Sure those holy men who founded the orders of godly recluses little dreamed what those places might become in time, and with the ever-increasing love of ease and wealth which seems implanted in the heart of man.
"Heaven pardon me if I speak or think amiss! but it is strange to hear and see what passes in the world. But one must use all caution even in thought, and I would not have thee speak aught of this save in a whisper in thy brother's ear, that he too may use all caution and discretion till we can find occasion to send Brother Emmanuel forth in safety.
"We have a week before us ere he will be summoned hence. Strive that none shall suspect aught of difference or coming change. Keep well the hours of study. Give none occasion for remark. For all we know, a spy may be in our midst; and at least any servant of ours might well be questioned by any of the monks of Chadwater, to whom he might go to confess, as to what was passing in the house, and see no hurt in answering questions. Wherefore be very wise and discreet, and give none occasion for remark.
"Thou dost understand me, my son? I may trust thee? Remember that thine own father's welfare may be imperilled by the veriest trifle should men suspect him of striving to outwit the prior."
Edred's eyes expressed a great comprehension and sympathy. He took his mother's hand and kissed it, slightly bending the knee.
"Thou mayest trust me, sweet mother," he answered. "Methinks I know well all thou wouldst say. I will be cautious, and I will teach caution to Julian. No harm shall come to any beneath this roof from word or deed of ours."
And then the lady went to her delayed household duties, whilst Edred went in search of his brother, to take him to the room where their studies were usually prosecuted, that the household wheels might revolve after the accustomed manner.
But Julian was nowhere to be seen. Edred sought him and called him lustily, till at length the old seneschal at the gate heard him, and informed him that his brother had gone a short distance on foot with the travellers, but that he would doubtless be back ere long.
Julian was light and fleet of foot as a deer, and often ran for many miles beside his father's charger, the nature of the wooded country round Chad giving him many advantages. Edred wandered forth a little way to meet him on his return, and was presently aware of a cowled figure standing close against a great beech tree, and so motionless and rigid was the attitude that the boy had to look somewhat closely to be certain that it was not a part of the tree trunk itself.
He paused and examined the figure with an intense curiosity not unmixed with suspicion. His own light footfall did not appear to have been heard, and the motionless figure, partly concealed behind the tree, remained in the same rigid attitude, as though intently watching some approaching object.
For a moment a superstitious thrill ran through the boy's frame. He had heard stories of ghostly visitants to these woods, some of which wore the garb of the monks of the neighbouring priory; but he had never seen any such apparition, and would not have thought of it now had it not been for the peculiar and unnatural quietude of this figure. As it was, he paused, gazing intently at it, wondering if indeed it were a being of flesh and blood.
He was just summoning up courage to go forward and salute it, when it moved forward in a gliding and cautious fashion. Edred felt ashamed of his momentary thrill of fear, for he recognized at once the awkward gait and rolling step of Brother Fabian, and knew that his preceptor's bitterest foe was lingering in the precincts of his home.
Resolved not to be seen himself, the boy sprang up a neighbouring tree as lightly as a squirrel, and from that vantage ground he saw that his brother Julian was approaching, and that the monk had stepped out to greet the lad. He heard the sound of the nasal tones, so different from the refined accents of Brother Emmanuel.
"Peace be with thee, my son."
Julian stopped short, and slightly bent the knee. He looked up into Brother Fabian's face with a look which Edred well knew, and which implied no love for his interlocutor. A stranger, however, would be probably pleased at the frank directness of the gaze, not noting the underlying hardihood and defiance.
"Alone, my son?" questioned the brother. "Methought I saw thee not long since with thy father and brother and the servants. How comes it thou art now alone?"
"I saw thee not," answered Julian, without attempting to reply to the question.
"Belike no. I was telling my beads out here in the forest. Thou didst pass me by all unknowing; but I was nigh thy path the while nevertheless. Whither--"
"That is something strange," remarked the boy, affecting not to hear the commencement of another question; "for I could be sworn that not a squirrel or field mouse crosses my path but that I mark him down. But I may not linger thus; the hour of our studies is already here. I wish you good e'en; I must away home."
The boy would have been gone with a bound the next instant had not the monk laid a detaining hand upon his arm. Edred saw by the reluctance of his brother's mien that he resented being thus stayed.
"One moment, good my son," said Brother Fabian. "Tell me whither thy father and brother have gone. It is something too late in the day for a hunting party; yet I knew not that the good knight purposed any journey."
Edred saw the sudden flash that came into Julian's eyes. He was in an agony lest the boy should betray his father's destination, which to the astute mind of the monk might betray much more than his brother himself knew; but as he heard Julian's words he drew his breath more freely.
"Marry, hast thou not heard that my Lord of Beaumaris and Rochefort goes a-hunting tomorrow with great muster? My father has gone to join the goodly company assembling there. Wilt thou not go thither too, Master Monk, and join the revelry that will make the hall ring tonight? I trow there is welcome for all who come. I would my father had taken me."
"Go to, saucy boy, go to!" replied the brother, half piqued, half amused by the lad's boldness in thus implying that his place was at a riotous revel such as generally took place when some great baron invited his friends for a day's sport in the forest.
It was like enough that this hunting party had been arranged for the morrow, and this road certainly led to Beaumaris and Rochefort. The reply seemed to satisfy the monk, and he relaxed his grasp of the boy's arm.
"I must not keep thee from thy studies longer," he said. "Say, what does Brother Emmanuel teach you?"
"The Latin tongue and the use of the pen. Edred is a fine scribe already. And he hath taught us our letters in Greek likewise; for men are saying, he tells us, that it is shame that that language has been neglected so long, since the Holy Scriptures were written in it first."
"And he doubtless teaches you from the Holy Scriptures--"
"Ay; and from the writings of the fathers, and the mass book," added the boy. "We can all read Latin right well now. But I must be going, an it please thee-"
"Yea, verily thou wilt make a fine scholar one of these days. I am glad thou hast so good an instructor. And that reminds me--I would have speech with Brother Emmanuel some day soon. I have a missal that I think he would greatly like sight of. I misdoubt me if the prior would like it carried forth from the library; but if he would meet me one day here in the forest, I will strive to secrete it and let him have sight of it. It hath wonderful pictures and lettering such as he loves. Wilt tell him of it, boy, and ask if he will have sight of it?"
"I will tell him," answered Julian. "But I trow he will have naught to do with it an it has been filched away from the library without the reverend prior's permission. Brother Emmanuel teaches us more of the doctrine of obedience than of any other. I trow he will not budge an inch!"
A scowling look passed over the features of the monk, which had hitherto been smiling and bland. He took Julian by the arm again, and said in a low voice:
"I have something of import to speak to Brother Emmanuel. He will do well to heed me, and to hear what I have to say. Bid him be at this spot two days hence just as the sun goes down. Tell him if he come not he may live to repent it bitterly."
"Wilt thou not come back with me?" asked the boy, with a quick, distrustful look into the bloated face beneath the cowl. "Thou canst speak at ease with him at home. It were better than out here in the forest. I will lead thee to him straight, and thou canst say all that is in thine heart."
But the monk dropped his arm and turned quickly away; his voice bespoke ill-concealed irritation.
"I may not linger longer here. The vesper bell will be ringing by now. Give Brother Emmanuel my message. I would see him here in the forest. And now farewell, boy; go home as fast as thou wilt, and put a bridle on thy forward tongue, lest haply it lead thee one day into trouble."
The monk strode away in the direction of the priory. Julian took the path towards Chad, with many backward glances at the retreating figure, and hardly was it lost in the thick underwood of the forest than he found his brother standing at his side.
"Thou here, Edred? Whence camest thou?"
Edred pointed to his leafy hiding place, and laid a finger on his lips in token of caution. Julian pursued his way awhile in silence, and only when they had increased the distance betwixt themselves and the monk by many hundred yards, the elder brother said, in low tones and very cautiously:
"Have a care, Julian; methinks he is not going home. He is here as a spy, I do not doubt. I saw him watching and spying like a veritable messenger sent for such a purpose.
"O Julian, I was right glad at the answer thou gavest him about our father. I trembled lest thou shouldst say he was bound for the coast."
Both brothers had been too well trained in the creed which allows and encourages the practice of speaking falsehood and even doing evil in a good cause, to feel that any kind of shame attached to a falsehood spoken to conceal from a crafty enemy a thing it would be perilous to others for him to know. And indeed diplomatic falsehood has never been eradicated from the world even since purer light has shone in upon it. It is very hard to meet craft, falsehood, and treachery by absolute frankness and truthful honesty. In the long run it does sometimes prove to be the strongest weapon a man can wield; but the temptation to meet craft by craft, deceit by deceit, is strong in human nature, and until a much later date was openly advocated as the only policy sane men could adopt when they dealt with foes always eager to outwit them. And certainly these lads would have felt themselves justified in going to far greater lengths to save their father from suspicion, or their preceptor and friend from peril.
"Then thou heardest all? I scarce know why I spoke as I did, for our father has always been the friend of the brethren of Chadwater. But the look in the man's eye made me cautious, and I minded a few parting words spoken by Bertram. Tell me, Edred, what it is that is stirring; I would know more."
"Verily it is that Brother Emmanuel stands in some peril from those of his own community. He has written something they mislike, and they mean to have him back to answer for it. Both he and our father think that if once he enters Chadwater again he will never come forth alive. Wherefore our father will not give him up to his enemies, but will contrive for him to escape. That is what he has gone to the coast for today; and when he knows that a vessel is ready and about to sail, Brother Emmanuel must be spirited away in the dead of the night; and when the prior comes to search for him--as doubtless he will do when we can find him not--it will puzzle him to lay hands upon him, for he will be away on the high seas."
"Good!" cried Julian, delighted. "Edred, I mislike those cruel, crafty monks. Methinks they are little like the saintly men of old who fled to the cloister to rid themselves of the trammels of the world. I--"
But Edred laid a hand upon his brother's arm and checked him suddenly, pointing to another stationary figure a short distance away amongst the trees--a figure wearing the dress of a lay brother of the priory, and engaged in keeping a close and careful watch upon the main entrance to the house.
"Hist!" whispered Edred; "we must not let him hear such words. Julian, mark my word, this house is watched. The prior has set his spies upon it. He fears lest Brother Emmanuel shall escape; or else the watch is set so that any going forth of his may be known, and he will be set upon and swiftly bound, and carried away to the priory, whence, I fear me, no man will ever see him re-issue."
Both the boys had stopped short, and now they looked into each other's faces with dismay.
Their light footfalls had not been heard, nor even the sound of their voices; for a strong breeze had sprung up, and was rustling the leaves overhead, and several birds were singing lustily. The brothers had time to take in the situation without being seen themselves, and they then drew hack into a leafy covert and spoke in whispers.
"Edred, do thou go back to the house instantly and openly, and warn Brother Emmanuel that he go not forth. Belike he might come out in search of us, since the hour is long past when we should have been with him. That must not be. Go and tell him all we have seen; whilst I will creep like a wildcat round the house, and see if there be other spies keeping watch like those we have seen."
"Ay, do so," replied Edred earnestly. "I fear me we shall find that every door is watched. But if thou art seen, go forward boldly. Let none guess that you suspect aught. Doubtless each watcher is well primed with some excellent reason for being found there. Speak them friendly, and do not show distrust."
"I will be as wise as a serpent," answered the boy, with one of his keen looks which bespoke him older in mind than in years.
Edred felt that his junior was better fitted to cope with a spy than he himself; and gladly taking the other office upon himself, he walked gaily forward, whistling a roundelay as he moved, and affecting not to see the dark figure by the oak, which pressed closer and closer out of sight as the lad strode by.
"Verily he means to remain unseen," thought Edred to himself. "If he had not been a spy he would have greeted me as I passed. He is after no good. Thank Heaven we have seen and heard what we have! We can so manage now that Brother Emmanuel set not foot beyond the courtyard for long enough to come--not till he may sally forth to make his way to the coast."
And then a sudden fear smote the boy that per chance this night journey to the coast might not be so easy to accomplish as had been hoped. If the cunning prior had set a watch upon Chad with the very object of preventing the escape of his intended victim, might it not well be that his father's forethought would be of no avail?
But it would not do to lose heart--time might show a way of escape; and Edred hurried within, and found Brother Emmanuel awaiting his tardy pupils, the great Bible open before him, the sunset light illuminating his face till, to the boy's ardent imagination, it seemed to be encircled by a nimbus.
His story was soon excitedly told, and as Brother Emmanuel heard of Sir Oliver's sudden journey, a look almost as of pain crossed his face.
"I have told thy father that I cannot and will not suffer harm to befall him and his through his kindness to me. Boy, boy, these be evil days in which to offend the powers that be; and it were better, far better, I should give myself up to death than that hurt should fall upon those I love and those who have befriended me with such generosity and love."
But Edred passionately disclaimed and explained.
"Brother, holy father, speak not so! thou wilt break our hearts! We love thee! thou knowest that we love thee! And we think, we are assured, that we can yet save thee, and ourselves too. Do not break our hearts by giving thyself up ere we have tried our utmost. It may be--nay, I am assured of it--that our blessed Saviour has a great work for thee to do for Him somewhere. Has He not Himself charged His servants if they be persecuted in one city to flee to another? He has not bid them give themselves up to their foes, to be hindered from doing the work He has put it into their hearts to do.
"Pardon my forwardness if I seem to teach my preceptor. I do but repeat words thou hast taught me. Stay with us--stay at Chad. There be ways and means both for hiding and for flight of which few know or dream. Let us have this alms to do for our Lord, that we hide and save one of His servants. Thou canst little know what grief and sorrow thou wouldst cause to us, or thou couldst not talk of giving thyself up."
The boy's earnestness was so deep that it could not but produce an impression. Although full of heroic courage and capabilities of self sacrifice, it was against human nature that Brother Emmanuel should desire to cast away his life, and that not by raising a protest for any point of conscience, but simply to be quietly put out of the way, that he might no longer expose the luxury and vice prevailing in the monastic retreat of which he was a member.
He had seen a row of underground niches, some of which had been walled up; and tradition asserted that living monks had been thus buried alive for being untrue to their vows. He quite believed the prior capable of accusing him of the same sin and ordering him to a like fate. In the eyes of the haughty ecclesiastic such a betrayal of cloister secrets would be looked upon as treachery to his vows, whilst in reality it was his very love for his vows, and his horror at their violation, which had inspired the pen that had poured forth burning words of denunciation and scorn. To die openly for the cause would have been one thing--a martyr has ofttimes spoken more eloquently by his death than by his life--but to be thus buried in a living grave would benefit none; and who would not shrink from such a fate?
The pause which succeeded Edred's impassioned appeal was broken by the entrance of Julian, flushed and heated.
"It is as we thought. The house is watched. There be six or seven spies posted around it--most of them lay brothers, but some monks themselves. Every entrance is watched closely. None can go in or out unmarked by one or another. Doubtless they have some signal which may at any time bring all of them together to one spot.
"Brother Emmanuel, thou must not adventure thyself beyond the courtyard till this watch ceases. Were they spies of my Lord of Mortimer's, we might go forth and drive them hence. But none may lay a finger on a monk. They are all ready with a story that they are on the watch for some heretic in hiding in the woods. I spoke to one to see what he would say, and he began about the hunchback of the fair, whom they have not caught yet, and professed to be watching for him. Doubtless they would all say the same did any question them; but they strive to keep out of sight as far as may be, and some have found hollow trees where they might pass days and nights and none be the wiser."
There could be no study for the boys that day; they were too deeply moved and excited. Moreover, Edred had his father's charge to keep, and as sundown was nigh at hand, the two brothers visited every gate and portal and saw the house made fast within and without.
An air of excitement and mystery seemed to permeate the place. The servants had caught some of the infection, and whispers of loyalty and affection were murmured many times in the boys' ears as they pursued their round. At last, all being safely ordered, they went by common consent to their own room, and stood looking at the secret door which led to the hiding place none knew of but themselves and Warbel.
"I trow we shall need it now," said Edred. "But all is in readiness for the fugitive; all has been done save to bring in the victuals. Brother, shall we do that this very night? I would there were a supply there for a month, and a couple of gallon jars of good mead and some bottles of wine. We must put water there, too, but not till the last minute. They say men must have water, else they die; but sure they could live for long on good mead and ale. Hath Bertram any plan for getting water to the chamber save what we can carry ourselves? He said he would not rest till we had done somewhat; but--"
A light sparkled in Julian's eyes.
"Come, and thou shalt see, thou brother of books," he said. "Whilst thou hast been doing thy penance for what sin we know not, and been reading amain with Brother Emmanuel, we have not been idle. Come, and I will show thee what we have contrived. I trow none need perish of thirst in the secret chamber now who knows aught of our contrivance."
With eager steps Julian led the way, and Edred no less eagerly followed. It was very dark in the secret chamber; but the means of kindling a light were now there, and soon a small dim lantern was lighted.
"Come hither," said Julian, taking the light and leading the way into a corner that lay beneath the leads of the house; and when there Edred saw a metal trough or receiver, rudely made but effectual for the purpose of holding any liquid, something similar to what the animals in the yard were fed and watered from. Above this trough was a piece of iron pipe with a bung at the end.
"That trough and pipe Bertram and I fashioned in the blacksmith's forge with our own hands," said the boy proudly, "and I trow both are good enow and strong. Dost know what does the other end of the pipe? Why, we have inserted it into the great rainwater tank yonder above our heads, which our grandsire contrived, and which is fed from the roofs and battlements of all the towers. Thou hast heard our father tell how he read of such things in days of old, when men built wondrous palaces, and had hanging gardens, and I know not what beside. He set the tank up there, and, as thou knowest, it is not now greatly used, albeit there is always water there, and at times men draw it forth. It may not be the best or purest, but it will serve for washing, and for drinking too were a man in a great strait. It is all pure and sweet now; for in the thunderstorm three nights since Bertram got up and let off all the stagnant water by the pipe which can be opened below, and the rain soon filled it again, it poured down with such goodwill. We need not fear that any captive will die of thirst. He has but to draw this bung and water will pour forth into this trough till he stops it again. He can pour away the surplus down the pipe with the dust and such like.
"I trow whoever lives up here awhile will have no such bad housing. And if we but get the place victualled this night, it will be ready for Brother Emmanuel whensoever he may need it."
Chapter VII: An Imposing Spectacle.
"To appear at the priory with all our household! Surely, my husband, that command is something strange?"
Lady Chadgrove raised her eyes anxiously to her lord's face, to see thereon an answering look of perplexity not untinged by anxiety. He was perusing a paper held in his hands.
"Such is the missive," he remarked. "It was brought by a lay brother but now. Methinks the fellow is yet in the kitchen. Our mead is not to be lightly disdained. I will send young Julian to talk with him, and learn if may be the cause of this strange summons. I would not willingly give cause of offence to the lord prior; and the money has been paid that was promised, so methinks he means no hurt to me or mine. But it is not safe to adventure oneself into the lion's mouth. I would gladly know what is behind all this. I am something ill at ease."
"All the household would mean Brother Emmanuel likewise," said the lady. "Perchance it is but a means of drawing him within the toils."
"It is like enough. It will be the day on which the week of grace expires. Would to God I could see my way more clearly! I am in a great strait betwixt mine own conscience and the authority of the Church. How can I deliver up a faithful and devoted son of the Church to certain death, when my house is his only refuge and protection? Yet how may I refuse obedience to my spiritual fathers and superiors, to whom I owe submission in all things, in right of their office, albeit as men I know them to be--faulty?".
He paused, as if reluctant to put his thoughts into words even to his wife. He was going through that mental and spiritual struggle which was speedily to do so great a work in the world--that struggle which led to the final fall of the religious houses in this land. Viewed as a God-appointed ordinance, or at least as a bulwark and rampart of the Church, it seemed a fearful thing to hold them in aught but awe and reverence, and to look upon their sons as saints and godly men, in whom the Spirit of the Lord was working. But when the corrupt practices within those walls were known, when men were convinced, sorely against their will, that the inmates were licentious, depraved, covetous, and tyrannical, then indeed it became hard to recognize their God-appointed mission.
Sir Oliver was no heretic; he had not even the faint sympathy with and comprehension of the tenets of the heretics which were creeping into some enlightened minds. He had imbibed some new and enlightened views from stanch sons of the Church, who were themselves preaching the doctrine of internal reform, but he went no further in these matters than his teachers. The very name of heresy was odious to him, but none the less did it go sorely against the grain to be a slave to the haughty Prior of Chadwater, and at his bidding to violate (as it seemed to him) the sacred laws of hospitality.
Whilst Julian was gone upon his errand, he paced the floor restlessly and moodily.
"I would we had got him off before this coil began. But who could have thought it would come--and Brother Emmanuel so true and faithful a son of the Church? Knowest thou, wife, that he keeps vigil three nights in the week in the chantry, watching sleeplessly, lest the Lord coming suddenly should find the whole house sleeping? Edred keeps watch one night, and good old Margaret another. I did but lately know this thing. Brother Emmanuel holds that the Church should ever be watching and waiting for her Lord, lest He come as a thief in the night. He would have prayers ceaselessly ascending before Him. It is his grief and pain that within the cloister walls, whence he has come, no true vigil is kept, but that sloth and ease have taken the place of watching and vigil and prayer. And such a man as that they would have me deliver to his death!"
"Art sure they mean him ill, my husband? It seems scarce possible."
"I am very sure that it is so," answered the knight, with a stern glance bent upon the sunny landscape beyond the open window. "It is strange, but it is true; and I sometimes think that some fearful and unlooked-for judgment must some day fall upon men who--"
But Sir Oliver paused, for his wife had made a gesture, as if to check the impetuous words that sprang to his lips. He smiled a little darkly.
"Thou art right, good dame. Such words are better left unspoke. If it be dangerous to think some things, it be more dangerous to speak one's thoughts. Let it be enough for us that the Lord reigneth, be the earth never so unquiet. He sitteth a judge and a king. In His hands are the final issues of all things."
The lady bent her head with due reverence, and then asked eagerly:
"And when does the fishing smack sail?"
Sir Oliver shook his head impatiently.
"Not for full fourteen days: it had but just come into port, and there be much merchandise to unlade and lade again. The skipper was an honest fellow, and a true-hearted man to boot. He would not take my gold, but said his passenger should bring it with him when he came; for he knew there was a chance he might not contrive to come, and he would not receive aught for services he might never have power to render. But he knows his business, and once safe on board the sloop our fugitive will be safe enow. But not till it be almost ready for sea--not till the skipper could weigh anchor at a moment's notice. He himself said he must not come aboard till the last moment. Were any hue and cry to be made after him, any vessel in port would be certain to be searched. How to keep him safe for these fourteen--nay, it is but twelve days now--is the thing that is perplexing me. Until the close of the appointed week naught will be done; but there will be one long week after that which will tax our resources to the utmost. And this summons from the prior makes the whole question the more difficult."
"And the boys say that the house is being watched. Hast not heard as much? There be spies from the priory posted round and about. All the gates are watched. Edred thinks it is to strive to seize Brother Emmanuel should he venture forth from the shelter of the walls.
"I like not the thought of all those prying eyes. My husband, these be strange times in which we dwell."
Sir Oliver's face was dark and thoughtful.
"Ay, verily they be. How can men wonder that the ignorant and unlearned turn with loathing and scorn from such crooked and cowardly ways?--
"How now, Julian? Hast learned the cause of this ado? What says the lay brother? Hast thou sounded him with care and with all due caution?"
Julian and Edred came in together. Julian looked flushed and excited, Edred pale and thoughtful, and his eyes were glowing with a strange fire.
"Ay, verily, we have found it all out," cried the younger boy, with eager excitement of manner. "Methinks it will be a fine sight. Father, hast heard of the thing which men call the 'Great Abjuration'--was not that the name, Edred?"
The elder boy made a sign of assent.
"It is for the heretics and Lollards," pursued Julian eagerly. "It hath been done before in many places, and here it is to be done two days from hence. All those persons who are suspected of heresy, or have been found guilty, are to be called before the lord prior and the Lord of Mortimer, and they will be bidden to abjure all their false doctrines publicly. The whole village will be assembled to hear them recant; high and low, rich and poor, all are to meet together in the great quadrangle of the priory to hear and see. The lay brother says it will be a fine sight. If they will not recant, the prior will give them over to the Lord of Mortimer, who will see that they suffer as heretics are wont to do. If they abjure their errors, the prior will set them their penances; and these be no light thing, by what the brother says. Some will be branded in the cheek, that they carry the mark of their shame all their days; some will have a green badge affixed to their arm, to wear until they have leave to cast it off, that all men may know they have been touched by the pollution; whilst others will be set to menial toil in the monasteries, and will perchance spend the rest of their lives there, sundered from their friends and their homes and all those whom they love.
"In truth, I marvel how any man can meddle with heresy in these days. The bishops have resolved to stamp it out once and for all, and methinks they will do so right well if they take such steps as these."
Sir Oliver's face looked a little relieved as he heard his son's words.
"Then everybody within the district is to be summoned to meet at the priory upon this same day?"
"Ay, verily; all are to be there, from the highest to the lowest. The lay brothers are going round the country, bidding all to the spectacle. It is thought that after all have seen what will take place upon that day, there will be no longer any fear of heresy round Chad and Mortimer."
The boy ran off to try to learn more details. Edred stood looking at his father with troubled eyes.
"Father," he said, in a low voice, "must Brother Emmanuel go with us that day?"
Sir Oliver looked down at the paper in his hands.
"It bids me to attend with my family and all my household, save such as must be left to take due care of the house in my absence," said he. Then he paused awhile in silent thought, and looking up he said suddenly, "Go fetch Brother Emmanuel hither."
Edred vanished silently and swiftly, and soon afterwards returned with the monk at his side.
The past few days had left their mark on the thin, spiritual face of the young ecclesiastic. The knowledge of the peril in which he stood had not daunted his courage, though it had drawn lines in his face and deepened the fire which burned within those dark, resolute eyes. His face looked as though he had slept but little, as though his nights had been passed in watching and prayer, as was indeed the case. He had an air of calm, resolute courage and hopefulness, though it was plain that he knew the danger of his position, and was fully alive to the peril which menaced him.
Sir Oliver placed the paper in his hand, and watched him silently whilst he perused it. When he had finished he handed it back, and stood for a moment looking out of the window with an expression of thoughtful concentration on his face. At the end of a few moments he looked up quickly, and said:
"You and yours will attend, Sir Oliver?"
"Yes; we must needs do that. But you?"
Brother Emmanuel lifted his head and threw it back with a gesture of resolution and independence.
"Sir Oliver," he said, "upon the day when your household is bidden to the priory, I cease, by the command of my superior, to be a member of this household. Upon that day your command over me (if I may use the word)--your responsibility over me--ceases. Whatever I may do or not do is no concern of yours. I am no longer the instructor of your sons, nor the priest within your walls. What I do I do of mine own self. None can rightly call you to task for it. Let that be your safeguard; let that be your answer to all questions. The prior has ordained that from that day I cease to remain here. From the dawning of that day you have no part nor lot in my life. I take its control into mine own hands, and it were better you should not even know whither I go nor what I do."
Sir Oliver bent a searching look upon him.
"So be it," he answered, after a moment's thought. "But this one word I say to thee: Thou hast been true and faithful to me and mine; wherefore my roof and my walls shall be thy shelter until thou goest forth of thine own freewill. Be not afraid to remain here with me. I will defend thee with every power I have until such time as thou mayest safely escape beyond the seas."
He held out his hand. The monk took it and pressed it between both of his.
"The Lord deal with thee and thine as thou hast dealt with me," was the reply, spoken in deep, earnest accents.
The knight bent his head in response to the benediction; and Brother Emmanuel moved silently away, closely followed by Edred, who looked pale and troubled.
"Thou dost not think he will present himself at the priory with the rest of the world?" asked Lady Chadgrove, with anxiety in face and voice; and her husband thoughtfully shook his head as he made reply:
"I trow not. I have spoken to him of that before, and he was very well resolved to fly the country and strive to finish the work he has begun, to join the band who are toiling might and main to bring a purer and holier spirit within the pale of the Church and her servants. It is a work to which he has long felt called, and he believes that it will be faithfully carried out somewhere, if not here. For a while he will be safer beyond the seas; but he may return and join with those in Oxford and London who are toiling in the same cause. He knows of the sloop--where it lies and when it sails; and I trow he is laying plans of his own. It were better not to ask of these. I would rather walk in ignorance. A man cannot betray, however inadvertently, what he knows not, and the subtle skill in questioning possessed by our reverend prior might win the secret from any unskilled person ere he knew he had revealed it. I know not what he means to do, nor shall I seek to know. But he has courage, spirit, and a consciousness of integrity which may carry him through much. Methinks he has judged wisely and well both for us and himself.
"When this day comes," touching the paper in his hand, "it is very true that I am no longer accountable for him as a member of my house hold. He has received his recall from his superior. It is for him to answer to it or not as he thinks best."
A sense of excitement and uneasiness pervaded the whole of the house during the two following days. In all men's mouths was talk of this solemn abjuration which was about to be forced upon all those suspected of heresy; and many persons who had tampered slightly and privately with doubtful matters went about looking uneasy and troubled, fearful lest they might find themselves accused of illicit practices, and be summoned forth to do penance in a more or less severe form before they could hope to receive absolution.
Sir Oliver Chadgrove's household was strictly orthodox in all outward matters; but the leaven of Lollardism was wonderfully penetrating, and he himself had suspected and feared that some of his servants might be tainted therewith. He awaited the day with almost as much anxiety as any of his dependants, for he well knew that the Lord of Mortimer would lose no opportunity of dealing him a heavy blow; and if he could be proved guilty of harbouring heretics or even suspected persons in his house, it would give his enemy a handle against him that he would not be slow to use.
As for the boys, it was plain that something of unwonted excitement was agitating their minds; but in the general anxiety pervading the whole household little account was taken of this.
The day came at last, dawning fair and clear. Sir Oliver assembled his household early in the courtyard, and every retainer was clad in his best and mounted upon his best charger. It was well to make a goodly display of strength and wealth on an occasion like the present. Doubtless the Lord of Mortimer would be there with all his train, and Chad must not cut a much poorer figure in the eyes of the beholders.
None knew better than Sir Oliver how far a goodly seeming went in condoning offences and allaying suspicion, especially in the eyes of such a worldly-wise man as the Prior of Chadwater. A proud bearing, a goodly following, a gorgeous retinue, would be a far better proof of orthodoxy in his eyes than any saintliness of life and conduct. Mortimer would know that right well, though, as he had been elected as the secular agent to assist the prior in his work today, plainly no stigma of any kind was thought to rest upon his household. Sir Oliver knew that Mortimer was a larger property than Chad, and that the baron was a greater man than the knight. It was reasonable enough that he had been selected for this office, and such choice need imply no distrust of himself on the prior's part; but still there was an uneasy, underlying consciousness that he was suspected and watched, and the espionage which had been kept up all this while on his house was a plain proof that he was not entirely trusted.
The priory and its adjacent buildings formed a very fine specimen of medieval architecture. The abbey was in itself a masterpiece of beauty, and the great block formed by refectories and dormitories stood at right angles to it. The prior's house, with its ample accommodation and its guest chambers, formed an other side to the great quadrangle; whilst the granaries, storehouses, and such-like buildings formed the fourth--the whole enclosing a very large space, which formed the exercising ground of the monks when they were kept by their rules within the precincts of their home.
The smoothest of green grass, carefully kept and tended, formed the carpet of this enclosure; and today the whole quadrangle formed an animated and picturesque spectacle on account of the shifting, many-coloured groups of people gathered together there with looks of expectation and wonder.
A holiday appearance was presented by the crowd; for however ill at ease any person might feel, it was his aim and object to look as jovial and well assured as possible. Every knee was bent whenever any monk appeared. The professions of reverence and orthodoxy were almost comic in their display.
The whole of the rural population had gathered in this open space when the master of Chad and his retainers rode in, followed by the humbler servants and many women and children on foot. But the Lord of Mortimer had not yet put in an appearance, though some of his retainers and men-at-arms might be seen mingling with the crowd; and Sir Oliver and his wife and sons looked curiously about them as they reined back their horses against the wall, wondering whether they should dismount altogether, and what the order of the day's proceedings was to be.
There were two great raised platforms at one end of the open enclosure, and upon these platforms, both of which were draped with cloth, many seats had been arranged. One of these was canopied, and was plainly for the prior; but beyond this Sir Oliver could be sure of nothing.
When, however, it became known that the party from Chad had arrived, a lay brother came out and bid them dismount and send away their steeds to the meadow beyond, where one or two of the servants could see to them; and as soon as this had been done, Sir Oliver was told that he and his lady would occupy certain seats upon one of the platforms, but that there would not be room for more than his eldest son to have a place there beside him. The younger boys must remain in the crowd.
Edred and Julian were well pleased at this, and gave each other a quick pressure of the hand. Edred was intensely excited; and gradually edged his way to a good position not far from the platform, that he might hear and see everything; and Julian stood beside him, as intent upon the proceedings as anyone.
With a great show of ecclesiastical pomp, forth came the prior with his monks in attendance, and closely following them the haughty Lord of Mortimer; with his son-in-law, Sir Edward Chadwell, by his side, and his daughter following her husband. With these came many knights and persons of standing in the county; and whilst the prior and the monks grouped themselves upon one platform, the barons, knights, and nobles took their appointed places on the other, the owners of Mortimer and Chad being for once in their lives elbow to elbow, and constrained to exchange words and looks of greeting.
A deep hush fell upon the crowd, and the people surged back against the walls, leaving the centre space vacant. At the same time certain men wearing the garb and the air of jailers or executioners came forth and stood in the midst of the open space--one of them bearing the glowing brazier and the branding iron, which he placed on a slab of stone in the very centre of the enclosure.
When all preparations were complete, the prior arose, and in a loud and solemn voice commanded that the prisoners should be brought forth--those persons who had not been merely suspected of heresy, but had been found with heretical books in their possession, or were known to be in the habit of meeting together to read such books and hear the pestilent doctrines which vile and wicked persons were propagating in the land.
At that command a number of monks appeared, leading bound, and in scant and miserable clothing, about a score of men and women, foremost amongst whom was the hunchback, whose face and voice were alike well known to Edred. Most of the prisoners were trembling and cowering; but he held his head erect, and looked calmly round upon the assembled potentates. There was no fear or shrinking in his pinched face. He eyed the prior with a look as unbending as his own.
Then began a long harangue from the great man, in which the wiles of the devil in the pestilent doctrines of the heretics, so-called Lollards, were forcibly and not illogically pointed out. When no man might give answer, when none might show where misrepresentation came in, where there was nothing given but the one side of the question, it was not difficult to make an excellent case against the accused. The early heretics, mostly unlettered people, always marred the purity of the cause by falling into exaggeration and foolishness, by denouncing what was good as well as what was corrupt in a system against which they were revolting--thus laying themselves open to attack and confutation, and alienating from them many who would have striven to stand their friend and to have gently set them right had they been less headstrong and less prone to tear away and condemn every practice the meaning of which they were, through ignorance and want of comprehension, unable to enter into.
In the hands of the skilful prior their doctrines were indeed made to look vile and blasphemous and foolish in the extreme. Many persons shuddered at hearing what words had been used by them with regard to the holy sacraments; and most of the persons brought to their trial were weeping and terrified at their own conduct before the prior's speech was half through. Only the hunchback retained his bold front, and looked back with scorn into the face of the prelate as he made point after point in his scathing denunciation.
When the harangue ended, the prior made a sign to his servants, and immediately one of the most timorous and craven of the prisoners was brought up before him. He was far too cunning a judge to try first to bend the spirit of the hunchback. He knew that with that man he could do nothing, and he knew too what marvels were sometimes accomplished by the example of self devotion. So commencing with a weak and trembling woman, who was ready to sink into the ground with fear and shame merely at being thus had up before the eyes of the whole place, he easily obtained a solemn recantation and abjuration of every form of heresy; and in a tone of wonderful mildness, though of solemn warning, too, told her that since she was a woman and young, and had doubtless been led away by others, she should be pardoned after she had paid a visit barefoot to a shrine forty miles off--a shrine much derided by the heretic teachers--and had returned in like fashion, having tasted nothing but bread and water the whole time of the journey.
Then came, one after another, the weakest and most timorous of the craven crowd. The infection of fear had seized upon them. Ignorant, superstitious, scarcely understanding the new teachings that had attracted them, and fearfully terrified of falling under the ban of the Church under whose shelter they had always lived, was it wonderful that one after another should abjure their heretical opinions, and swear to listen to the enticer no more? Some strove to ask questions upon the points which troubled them; but scarce any sort of disputing was allowed. The prior was subtle in fence, and by a few scathing words could generally quell the questioner and make him wish his objection unspoken.
And those who showed a tendency towards disputation were far more harshly dealt with than those who abjured at once. The red-hot iron, the badge of shame, the servitude which might be lifelong were imposed upon them. So a sense of despair fell upon the little band, and they yielded one by one; only three refusing to take the words of the oath--the hunchback and two more, one being a lad of about sixteen summers; and after using every threat and argument to overcome their obstinacy, the prior called upon the Lord of Mortimer as the representative of the secular arm, and delivered the prisoners over to him to be dealt with after the manner of the law.
A shuddering groan went up, as if involuntarily, from many throats as the prisoners were led away by the guards of Mortimer. The prior looked sternly round to check the demonstration, reminding the people that the burning of the body was as nothing, it was the eternal burning of the soul in hell that men should fear; and that if in the midst of the flames the guilty persons recanted their sins, it was just possible that even then the merciful God would hear and receive their prayer, and that they might be saved from the eternal death of the soul.
Then somewhat changing his tone, though still speaking with gravity and even with sadness, he told the people of the pain with which he had heard stories of the sympathy evinced by some even amongst those standing about him for the wicked and pestilent disturbers of the public peace and the safety of the Church. One or two persons he called upon by name, and rebuked with some severity for words reported to have been dropped by them which savoured, if not of heresy itself, yet of carelessness and irreverence for sacred things which bordered dangerously on heresy. One after another these persons came forward trembling, asked pardon, and were dismissed not unkindly, but with many an admonition for the future. It was made plain and patent to all that the bishops had absolutely resolved to stamp out heresy once and for all; and for once the prior and abbots, the monks and the friars, were in accord and working hand in hand. It was useless for any to hope to stem such a tide as that--such was the tenor of the prior's speech--heresy was to be exterminated. On that point there was no manner of doubt; and if, knowing this, persons chose deliberately to put themselves under the ban of the law, well, their blood must be upon their own head. Neither God nor man would have mercy upon them.
Several of the retainers and a few of the actual household of Chad had received admonitions of this sort. Sir Oliver looked on uneasily, catching a subdued look of triumph in the eyes of his rival and foe. He did not believe his household seriously tainted with heresy. He knew that certain of them who had been with him in London had imbibed the teaching of Dean Colet and his pupils, and he did not know, any more than the dean himself, that the Lollards secretly encouraged each other to go and hear a man who spoke so much of the truth they themselves held.
The line where orthodoxy ends and heresy begins has been at all times hard to define, and perhaps the upholders of the "Church" knew as little as anybody how hard this definition was becoming.
Several persons had stood forth (invited by the prior to do so) and confessed to dangerous sentiments which they now saw to be utterly wrong, and vowed to abjure forever; or had accused other persons of words which required explanation, or of deeds which suggested a leaning towards secret meetings where heresy might be discussed.
But the day's proceedings seemed drawing to a close, and nothing of any great peril to the Lord of Chad had occurred, when just at the close of the afternoon Brother Fabian suddenly came forward and whispered a few words in the prior's ear; and he, after a moment of apparent hesitation, spoke aloud.
"It is with great grief that I learn that one of our own brethren has been heard to utter words which sound strangely like those of heresy; but since it is our bounden duty that strict justice be done to all, whether high or low, rich or poor, nay, whether it be our own son or brother, I here call upon Brother Emmanuel to stand forth publicly, as others have done, and answer the charge brought against him."
The prior looked round as he spoke these words in a loud voice; but there was no movement either in the crowd or amongst the cowled monks, and he spoke the name again without eliciting any response.
The Lord of Mortimer leaned forward and spoke to his neighbour.
"Methinks this brother was a member of your household, Sir Oliver," he said, with a gleam of malice in his eye. "Surely you received a mandate bidding you come with all your household. Where is this preceptor of your sons?"
"His duties ceased last night," replied Sir Oliver calmly, in a tone loud enough to reach the prior's ears. "He had command to return today to the priory, and last evening he said farewell to me and mine. I have not seen him today."
"Did he know of the summons to all to attend the gathering here today?"
Sir Oliver bent his head.
"He did. I showed him the paper myself."
"Then wherefore is he not here?"
"That know I not. I did not know he was not here. I do not know it even now. I have never known Brother Emmanuel fail in obedience yet."
The name was being whispered all round. The monks were professing to be searching for the missing brother. The prior looked at Sir Oliver with some sternness.
"Where is this monk?" he asked,
"I do not know," was the firm response. "I have not seen him since his farewell yesternight."
"You thought he was coming hither?"
"I knew naught. He told me naught of his purposes."
The prior's eyes flashed ominously.
"Have a care, Sir Oliver, have a care. Brother Emmanuel is yet within the walls of Chad. I have reason to know he has not left them the whole of this past week. He has been disobedient to his vow of submission. He has not come at my bidding."
"I know naught of it," replied the knight calmly.
The Lord of Mortimer leaned forward once more with an evil smile in his eyes.
"Let not mistaken generosity get the better of prudence, my brother," he said, with derisiveness in his tone. "You know well that the penalty of hiding and harbouring a heretic is little short of that of heresy itself. Have a care you do not lose all just for the caprice of the moment, which in time to come you will have leisure bitterly to repent."
The prior, too, was eying him sternly.
"Lord Mortimer gives good counsel, Sir Oliver," he said. "Thou knowest I am no enemy of thine. What has this day passed must have shown thee that. Thou knowest that there be some here who might have been called before me today to answer for their deeds who have been spared for their youth and gentle birth. Thou hast had proof that I am no enemy of thine. But the walls of Chad must not harbour a heretic. Brother Emmanuel is there; he hath been there, and hath not sallied forth this many days, showing that a guilty conscience keeps him within. He cannot go forth without my knowledge; and if thou wilt not give him up to me, I must obtain authority and have the house searched and the man dragged forth. And I tell thee freely, if it be found that thou hast lent thine aid in harbouring a heretic and disobedient monk, thy lands will be forfeit, if not thy life, and the Lord of Mortimer will be likewise Lord of Chad."
At that moment, had any person had eyes to heed it, it might have been observed that Edred and Julian slipped like veritable shadows through the packed crowd. The next moment they had reached the gateway, had passed under it without exciting any observation, and as soon as they reached the cover of the forest, they set off to run towards Chad as fast as their legs could carry them--far faster than their horses could have borne them through the narrow paths of the tangled wood.