bowed his head upon his hands like a
man borne down below a weight of care. He joined no longer in the
psalms; but Dick could hear the beads rattle though his fingers and the
prayers a-pattering between his teeth.

Yet a little, and the grey of the morning began to struggle through the
painted casements of the church, and to put to shame the glimmer of the
tapers. The light slowly broadened and brightened, and presently through
the southeastern clerestories a flush of rosy sunlight flickered on the
walls. The storm was over; the great clouds had disburthened their snow
and fled farther on, and the new day was breaking on a merry winter
landscape sheathed in white.

A bustle of church officers followed; the bier was carried forth to the
deadhouse, and the stains of blood were cleansed from off the tiles,
that no such ill-omened spectacle should disgrace the marriage of Lord
Shoreby. At the same time, the very ecclesiastics who had been so
dismally engaged all night began to put on morning faces, to do honour
to the merrier ceremony which was about to follow. And further to
announce the coming of the day, the pious of the town began to assemble
and fall to prayer before their favourite shrines, or wait their turn at
the confessionals.

Favoured by this stir, it was of course easily possible for any man to
avoid the vigilance of Sir Daniel's sentries at the door; and presently
Dick, looking about him wearily, caught the eye of no less a person than
Will Lawless, still in his monk's habit.

The outlaw, at the same moment, recognised his leader, and privily
signed to him with hand and eye.

Now, Dick was far from having forgiven the old rogue his most untimely
drunkenness, but he had no desire to involve him in his own predicament;
and he signalled back to him, as plain as he was able, to begone.

Lawless, as though he had understood, disappeared at once behind a
pillar, and Dick breathed again.

What, then, was his dismay to feel himself plucked by the sleeve and to
find the old robber installed beside him, upon the next seat, and, to
all appearance, plunged in his devotions!

Instantly Sir Oliver arose from his place, and, gliding behind the
stalls, made for the soldiers in the aisle. If the priest's suspicions
had been so lightly wakened, the harm was already done, and Lawless a
prisoner in the church.

"Move not," whispered Dick. "We are in the plaguiest pass, thanks,
before all things, to thy swinishness of