ad not seen a single way-farer; though as he had
dozed several times during the night he thought a few persons might
have passed quietly, and not aroused him.

"You doze!" exclaimed the Abbot in sarcastic displeasure and eyeing the
good monk's ample girth and heavy, jowly face. "Your doze would need a
pole-axe to awaken. An army could have marched by with trumpets
sounding and you never lift an eye. Other duty shall be given you and
a more slender brother assigned to the night watch. You may go. . .
By my faith, sirs, I wonder if you soldiers have as much trouble with
your subordinates as we churchmen have with ours."

"We, at least, can deal out heavier discipline when occasion demand
it," De Wilton answered.

"Aye! you men of war tread not after the Merciful One," the Abbot said.

De Lacy laughed shortly. "Mercy is but relative, and methinks, you
ecclesiastics are no slower in your judgments than are we. The
punishments differ only in kind."

"But our discipline is a step toward Holiness and Christ, my son."

"And ours a leap toward Sin and Satan, think you? Nathless, am I quite
as willing to take my chance of Heaven in a coat of mail as in the
priestly gown."

The Abbot's eyes snapped with irritation, but his speech was easy and
pacific. "You are young, my son; perchance, when you have more grey
hairs there will be a change in your views. Meanwhile you and Sir
Ralph need refreshment, to say naught of the good squires and the
horses."

De Lacy hesitated. They had already tarried overlong, under the
circumstances, but perchance Raynor Royk had not yet completed his
scrutiny of the Abbey. There was need that this should be thoroughly
done, yet so carefully, withal, as not to arouse suspicion. If Aldam
were to imagine he and his were mistrusted it would make him an enemy
if innocent, and a doubly armed foe if guilty. The doubt, however, was
solved by the entrance of a strange horseman into the courtyard. A
faint frown crossed the Abbot's face as he saw him, and De Lacy
instantly decided to remain. Evidently the newcomer was either
unwelcome or inopportune; and if it were because of their presence,
then undoubtedly here was their place.

"We will accept with thanks, your reverence," he said.

Aldam smiled suavely; then went forward to greet the new guest.

"It is Sir Christopher Urswicke--the priest Knight--the confessor of
Margaret of Richmond," De Wilton whispered.

"A bit far out of his de