" remarked one of the
hitherto silent monks.

The Abbot annihilated him by a glance.

"Verily, an' he were," remarked Sir Godfrey, "it should tell but little
by now, when he may as like as not be at Winchester or Norwich."

Our Plantagenet sovereigns were perpetual travellers up and down the
kingdom, rarely staying even a fortnight in one place, though
occasionally they were stationary for some weeks; but the old and infirm
King who now occupied the throne had moved about less than usual of late
years.

Perrote was silent, but her face took a resolute expression, which Sir
Godfrey had learned to his annoyance. When the "bothering old woman"
looked like that, she generally bothered him before he was much older.
And Sir Godfrey, like many others of his species, detested being
bothered.

He soon found that fate remembered him. As he was going up to bed that
night, he found Perrote waiting for him on the landing.

"Sir, pray you a word," said she.

Sir Godfrey stood sulkily still.

"If my Lord Duke be now in England, should he not know that his mother
is near her end?"

"How am I to send to him, trow?" growled the custodian. "I wis not
where he is."

"A messenger could find out the Court, Sir," answered Perrote. "And it
would comfort her last days if he came."

"And if he refused?"

Perrote's dark eyes flashed fire.

"Then may God have mercy on him!--if He have any mercy for such a
heartless wretch as he should so be."

"Keep a civil tongue in your head, Perrote de Carhaix," said Sir
Godfrey, beginning to ascend the upper stair. "You see, your poor
priests are no good. You'd better be quiet."

Perrote stood still, candle in hand, till he disappeared.

"I will be silent towards man," she said, in a low voice; "but I will
pour out mine heart as water before the face of the Lord. The road
toward Heaven is alway open: and they whom men beat back and tread down
are the most like to win ear of Him. Make no tarrying, O my God!"

CHAPTER TWELVE.

WHEREIN SUNDRY PEOPLE ACT FOOLISHLY.

"Why for the dead, who are at rest?
Pray for the living, in whose breast
The struggle between right and wrong
Is raging terrible and strong."

Longfellow.

Amphillis Neville was a most unsuspicious person. It never occurred to
her to expect any one to do what, in his place, she would not have done;
and all that she would have done was so simple and straightforward, that
scheming of every sort was an