bbot, whose window was
set open, was wakened by a voice that spoke with a Scotch accent and
repeatedly called him by his name, summoning him to look out and see.
He and others rose and looked, but could see nothing, for the night was
very dark and rain fell. When the dawn came, however, their search
was rewarded, for there, set upon a pinnacle of the Abbey church, and
staring straight into the window of his Lordship's sleeping-room, from
which it was but a few yards distant, was the dreadful head of Andrew
Woods!

Furiously the Abbot asked who had done this horrible thing, but the
monks, who were sure that it was the same being that had bewitched the
cows, only shrugged their shoulders, and suggested that the grave of
Andrew should be opened to see if he had lost his head. This was done at
length, although, for his own reasons, the Abbot forbade it, talking of
the violation of the dead.

Well, the grave was opened when Maldon was away on one of his mysterious
journeys, and lo! no Andrew was there, but only a beam of oakwood
stuffed out with straw to the shape of a man and sewn up in a blanket.
For the real Andrew, or rather what was left of him, lay, it may be
remembered, in another grave that was supposed to be filled by Sir
Christopher Harflete.

From this day forward the whole countryside for fifty miles round rang
with the tales of what were known as the Blossholme witchings, of which
a proof was still to be seen by all men in the withered head of Andrew
perched upon its pinnacle, whence none could be found to remove it
for love or money. Only it was noted that the Abbot changed his
sleeping-chamber, after which, except for a sickness which struck the
monks--it was thought from the drinking of sour beer--these bedevilments
were abated.

Indeed, at that time men had other things to think of, since the air was
thick with rumours of impending change. The King threatened the Church,
and the Church prepared to resist the King. There was talk of the
suppression of the monasteries--some, in fact, had already been
suppressed--and more talk of a rising of the faithful in the shires of
York and Lincoln; high matters which called Abbot Maldon much away from
home.

One day he returned weary, but satisfied, from a long journey, and
amongst the news that awaited him found a message from the Prioress,
over which he pondered while he ate his food. Also there was a letter
from Spain, which he studied eagerly.

Some nine mon