hly embroidered with silver.
His head was swathed in a bandage of many folds, partially concealing
the face.

The little procession passed through the Precincts; then entered the
Cathedral by the great door leading into the nave.

Here a monk stood, taking careful note of all who passed in or out of
the building. As the stretcher approached, he stepped forward with
hand upraised.

There was a pause in the measured tramp of the bearers' feet.

The Knight lifted his eyes, and seeing the monk barring the way, he
drew forth a parchment and tendered it.

"I have the leave of the Lord Bishop, good father," he said, "to carry
this man upon the stretcher daily into the crypt, and there to let him
lie before the shrine of Saint Oswald, during the hour of Vespers; from
which daily pilgrimage and prayer, we hope a great recovery and
restoration."

At sight of the Lord Bishop's signature and seal, the monk made deep
obeisance, and hastened to call the Sacristan, bidding him attend the
Knight on his passage to the crypt and give him every facility in
placing the sick man there where he might most conveniently lie before
the holy altar of the blessed Saint Oswald.

So presently, the stretcher being safely deposited, the men-at-arms
stood each against a pillar, and the Knight folded back the coverings,
in order that the man who lay beneath, might have sight of the altar
and the shrine.

As the Knight stood gazing through the vista of many columns, he found
the old Sacristan standing at his elbow.

"Most worshipful Knight," said the old man, with deference, "our Lord
Bishop's mandate supersedes all rules. Were it not so, it would be my
duty to clear the crypt before Vespers. See you that stairway yonder,
beneath the arch? Not many minutes hence, up those steps will pass the
holy nuns from the Convent of the White Ladies at Whytstone--noble
ladies all, and of great repute for saintliness. Daily they come to
Vespers by a secret way; entering the crypt, they pass across to a
winding stair in the wall, and so arrive at a gallery above the choir,
from which they can, unseen, hear the chanting of the monks. I must to
my duties above. Will you undertake, Sir Knight, that your men go not
nigh where the White Ladies pass, nor in any way molest them?"

"None shall stir hand or foot, as they pass, nor in any way molest
them," said the Knight.

Hugh d'Argent was kneeling before the altar, his folded hands resting
upon the c