ved. It seemed to him as if he were near a being of
another mould, and old memories of years long past were awakened in
his mind--how once such a friar had found him wounded almost to
death in the battlefield, and had saved the body, like the good
Samaritan, and striven to save his soul. How he had vowed amendment
and forgotten it, or he had not been found herding with such black
sheep as Drogo and his band. And earlier thoughts, how when his
mother had fallen sick of the plague, another friar had tended her
dying moments, when every other earthly friend had failed her for
fear of infection.

"He shall not perish if I can help it, and it may be put to my
account in purgatory."

"Father," he cried.

"My brother," was the reply, "what hast thou to ask?"

"What food hast thou?"

"Yet half a loaf, and a cruse nearly filled with water."

"It is all thou mayst get till my lord return. He has taken the
keys. Use it sparingly."

For a moment there was silence, then a calm voice replied:

"He who fed Elijah by the ministry of the ravens will not fail me."

"But if Sir Drogo be absent many days thou mayst starve."

"Though he slay me, yet will I put my trust in him."

"I do believe he will be saved, by a miracle if needs be," muttered
the man. "The saints will never let him starve, he is one of them."

The second day passed, and Martin's bread and cruse yet held out.
But his gaoler was very uneasy, and wandered about the dark
passages like a restless spirit. Neither could he help breathing
his despair to Martin, as hours passed away and no messenger
returned from Drogo with the key.

But the answer from the captive was always full of hope.

"Be of good cheer, for there has been with me an angel of God, who
has assured me that the tyranny will soon be overpast. Meanwhile I
feel not the pangs of hunger."

The fourth day from the departure of the royal army arrived. No one
had as yet brought back the key. It was a day of awful suspense,
for although no sound of artillery announced the awful strife, yet
it was generally known that a battle was imminent, and was probably
going on at that moment. They sent two messengers out at dawn of
day, and one returned at eventide, breathless and sore from long
running.

He had been on that group of downs which lies eastward of Lewes, of
which Mount Caburn is the highest point, and from which Walderne
Castle was visible. There they had raised a beacon fire, and he had
left hi