, for there was treasure somewhere about the
monastery, this was certain, and he might as well have part of it as
Buckingham and Monmouth to have it all. And in case of any mischance
and Mistress Penwick be lost to him, he must have something to live
upon. Constance would never forgive him for allowing the maid to
escape him, and consequently would not give him large loans as
heretofore. But if he should gain the fair prize, some day he would
give back to his church even more than he had taken. As he thus
thought, he forgot for a moment his present surroundings and was
suddenly reminded by a touch on the shoulder,

CHAPTER XIII

AS NINE TOLLED FROM THE CHAPEL BELFRY

He started quickly and looked up shuddering, and saw a tall, slender
monk with cowl so drawn not a feature could be seen. The Abbe spoke
low and hoarsely, as though a cold prevented better utterance,--

"What seekest thou?"

"The kitchen," Cantemir answered, with a great show of bravery.

"And what there to find, my young man?"

"Pen and paper. I must write to Mistress Penwick."

"Ah yes, ah yes, my son. I had forgotten. Curve thy sentences to the
point, without being so broad in assertion another might understand.
Thou hadst better put it this way--"

"Indeed I thought I had my meaning well covered. I had proposed to
say--"

"Ah, we are not alone; step this way." The monk turned to a panelling
that gave way by a touch, and to Cantemir's surprise they were alone
in a dark and vaulted passage; indeed they were unable to discern
aught. Quickly the Abbe drew his companion from the panelling through
which they had passed; and 'twas hardly done when three monks followed
with lighted candles. The foremost was Constantine, carrying an
enormous bunch of keys. Their long robes swept Cantemir's feet. He
drew a quick breath, and before it sounded his companion placed his
hand over his mouth. Now this hand smacked not of holy mould or
monastic incense, but rather of rare perfume; but Cantemir was
frightened and did not notice the worldliness of the admonishing hand.
The monks proceeded down the passage; stopping near the centre they
lifted from the floor a trapdoor. A ladder was brought and swung down
the opening and the three descended.

"Now, my son, thou hadst better write thy billet, and if thou dost not
find one to carry it, I will be along directly and do the service for
thee. I must visit the village and the tree, my son. Now I'll give
the