the household."

"No; you would be observed. I am older and perhaps a little more
discreet. Stay with your mother till all is ready."

Alfred reluctantly obeyed, and Father Cuthbert went forth. So great was
their anxiety that it almost banished the power of prayer, save such
mental shafts as could be sent heavenward in each interval of thought.

At last Alfred, who was at the window, saw Redwald and his followers--
nearly a hundred in number--leave the castle and ride across towards
the forest in the direction of the farm in question. Another moment and
Father Cuthbert entered.

"Are you ready? If so, follow me."

He took them by a private passage into the chapel, where four men
already stood by the bier, ready to head the procession, and thirty or
forty others were gathered in the chapel or about the door--their own
vassals, good and true. They all were armed.

Father Cuthbert ascended the wooden tower above the chapel, which served
as a bell cot. He looked from its windows; the party of Redwald had
disappeared behind the trees.

He came down and gave the signal. The sad procession started; they
descended the steps to the courtyard. Redwald had left some forty or
fifty men behind--men who had grown old in arms, and who, if they had
pleased, might perhaps have stopped the exit, but they were not
sufficiently in the confidence of their leader to take the initiative;
and the only man who was in his confidence, and whom he had charged to
see that no one departed, was fortunately at that moment in another part
of the building. The sentinel at the drawbridge was one of Redwald's
troop. He menaced opposition, and refused to let the drawbridge be
peaceably lowered.

"Art thou a Christian?" said Father Cuthbert, coming forward in his
priestly attire, "and dost thou presume to interfere with a servant of
the Lord and to delay a funeral?"

"I must obey my orders."

"Then I will excommunicate thee, and deliver thy soul to Satan."

And he began to utter some awful Latin imprecation, which so aroused the
superstition of the sentinel that he made no further opposition, which
perhaps saved his life, for the retainers of Aescendune were meditating
instant violence, indignant at the delay and the outrage to their lady.

They themselves let the drawbridge down and guarded the sad cortege over
the plain. Their numbers increased every moment, and before they reached
the neighbourhood of the priory they had little cause to fea