, the only place in Thanet which he had ever called his home.

The old Quakeress, wrathful and sullen, had scarce understood what the
whole pother was about. She was hard of hearing, and Petty Constable
Pyot was at great pains to explain to her that by the major-general's
orders the body of the murdered man should be laid decently under
shelter, until such time as proper burial could be arranged for it.

Fortunately before the small cortege bearing the gruesome burden had
arrived at the cottage, young Richard Lambert had succeeded in making
the old woman understand what was expected of her.

Even then she flatly and obstinately refused to have the stranger
brought into her house.

"He was a heathen," she declared emphatically, "his soul hath mayhap
gone to hell. His thoughts were evil, and God had him not in His
keeping. 'Tis not fit that the mortal hulk of a damned soul should
pollute the saintliness of mine own abode."

Pyot thought that the old woman was raving, but Master Lambert very
peremptorily forbade him to interfere with her. The young man, though
quite calm, looked dangerous--so thought the petty constable--and
between them, the old Quakeress and the young student defied the
constables and the watches and barred the cottage to the entrance of the
dead.

Unfortunately, the smith was from home. Pyot thought that the latter had
been more reasonable, that he would have understood the weight of
authority, and also of seemliness, which was of equally grave
importance.

There was a good deal of parleying before it was finally decided to
place the body in the forge, which was a wooden lean-to, resting against
the north wall of the cottage. There was no direct access from the
cottage to the forge, and old Mistress Lambert seemed satisfied that the
foreigner should rest there, at any rate until the smith came home,
when, mayhap, he would decide otherwise.

At the instance of the petty constable she even brought out a sheet,
which smelt sweetly of lavender, and gave it to the watchmen, so that
they might decently cover up the dead; she also gave them three elm
chairs on which to lay him down.

Across those three chairs the body now lay, covered over with the
lavender-scented sheet, in the corner of the blacksmith's forge, over by
the furnace. A watchman stayed beside it, to ward off sacrilege: anyone
who desired could come, and could--if his nerves were strong
enough--view the body and state if, indeed, it wa