d of such as feel disgrace.

"You cowardly curs!" he exclaimed; "have you no spark of manhood left
among you?"

"Perchance they, in their turn, can dub you cur," said De Lacy tersely,
springing on the dais and taking hold upon the Abbot's arm; "for here,
on the dying word of the Duke of Buckingham, do I accuse you of
complicity in the abduction of the Countess of Clare."

Aldam shook off the mailed fingers.

"What! What!" he cried. "Would you lay hands in violence upon one of
God's anointed? . . . Stand back, Sir Aymer de Lacy . . . and you,
too, Sir John de Bury, lest I smite you both with the Church's
anathema."

A gasp of horror came from the monks, and even the two Priors were
appalled at the threat--dire enough, indeed, to most men in that age,
but little short of Hell itself to such as were cloister-bred.

De Lacy folded his arms again over his battle-axe.

"It was no purpose nor intent of mine," he said, "to offer you
violence------"

"Nathless, it was done," the Abbot broke in arrogantly, "and naught but
sharp penance can atone for it and for your deeds here this day."

De Lacy smiled contemptuously. "Methinks, lord Abbot, you are
strangely dull of brain to fancy you can fright us so. Believe me, we
care as little for your curse as for your broken chair. Nor did I
speak in apology for my action. I meant no violence then; yet if we do
not get true answer to our questions, be assured there shall be
violence both meant and done."

The monks groaned aloud; but the Abbot only shrugged his shoulders.

"You have heard," De Lacy went on with steady menace; "and do not think
it is an idle boast. Answer! have you the Countess of Clare within the
bounds of Kirkstall Abbey?"

Aldam raised his hand in seeming horror. "Think you that the monks of
Benedict------?" he began.

"Answer!" cried Aymer, striking the arm of the Prior's chair with his
mailed fist so fiercely that its stout occupant, in sudden terror, fled
to the rear of the dais.

Instantly the Abbot seated himself in the vacant place.

"I frighten not so easily as the timid Brother James," he said. "But
as the lady is not with us, you are welcome to that knowledge."

"Where is she, then?"

The Cistercian leaned back and stared De Lacy in the face. "If I knew
I would not tell you."

"You do know--and either you tell or you hang from your own gate beam."

Aldam half arose from his chair; then dropped back and laughed.

"You would no