eard from him he has told to my lord, and I heard
it."

(This was a lie, my children. No man from London had spoken with me. But
you shall see what follows.)

"And what did Sir John tell him," asked Master Richard quietly. "Did he
say he knew nothing of me?"

Now he asked this, thinking that perhaps this was a method of tempting
him. And so it was, but worse than he thought it.

"No, poor lad," said the young man very pitifully, "Sir John knew you
well enough. The messenger saw your little house, too, and the hazels
about it; and the stream, and the path that you have made; and there
were beasts there, he said, a stag and pig that looked lamentably out
from the thicket."

Now observe the Satanic guile of this! For at the mention of all his
little things, and his creatures that loved him, Master Richard could
not hold back his tears, for he had thought so often upon them, and
desired to see them again. So the young man stayed in his talk, and
caressed his hand again, and murmured compassionately.

Presently Master Richard was quiet, and asked the young man to tell him
what the parson had said.

"To-morrow," said the young man, making as if to rise.

"To-day," said Master Richard.

So the young man went on.

"He went to the parsonage with Sir John, and talked with him there a
long while--"

"Did he see my books?" said Master Richard in his simplicity.

"Yes, poor lad; he saw your books. And then Sir John told him what he
thought."

"And what was that?" said Master Richard, faint with the thought of the
answer.

The young man caressed his hand again, and then pressed it as if to give
him courage.

"Sir John told him that you were a good fellow; that you injured neither
man nor beast; and that all spoke well of you."

Then the young man stayed again.

"Ah! tell me," cried Master Richard.

"Well, poor lad; as God sees us now, Sir John told the messenger that he
thought you to be deluded; that you deemed yourself holy when you were
not, and that you talked with the saints and our Lord, but that these
appearances were no more than the creations of your own sick brain. He
said that he humoured you; for that he feared you would be troublesome
if he did not, and that all the folk of the village said the same thing
to you, to please you and keep you quiet.--Ah! poor child!"

The young man cried out as if in sorrow, and lifted Master Richard's
hand and kissed it.

Master Richard told me that when he hear