"All the household would mean Brother Emmanuel likewise," said the lady. "Perchance it is but a means of drawing him within the toils."

"It is like enough. It will be the day on which the week of grace expires. Would to God I could see my way more clearly! I am in a great strait betwixt mine own conscience and the authority of the Church. How can I deliver up a faithful and devoted son of the Church to certain death, when my house is his only refuge and protection? Yet how may I refuse obedience to my spiritual fathers and superiors, to whom I owe submission in all things, in right of their office, albeit as men I know them to be—faulty?".

He paused, as if reluctant to put his thoughts into words even to his wife. He was going through that mental and spiritual struggle which was speedily to do so great a work in the world—that struggle which led to the final fall of the religious houses in this land. Viewed as a God-appointed ordinance, or at least as a bulwark and rampart of the Church, it seemed a fearful thing to hold them in aught but awe and reverence, and to look upon their sons as saints and godly men, in whom the Spirit of the Lord was working. But when the corrupt practices within those walls were known, when men were convinced, sorely against their will, that the inmates were licentious, depraved, covetous, and tyrannical, then indeed it became hard to recognize their God-appointed mission.

Sir Oliver was no heretic; he had not even the faint sympathy with and comprehension of the tenets of the heretics which were creeping into some enlightened minds. He had imbibed some new and enlightened views from stanch sons of the Church, who were themselves preaching the doctrine of internal reform, but he went no further in these matters than his teachers. The very name of heresy was odious to him, but none the less did it go sorely against the grain to be a slave to the haughty Prior of Chadwater, and at his bidding to violate (as it seemed to him) the sacred laws of hospitality.

Whilst Julian was gone upon his errand, he paced the floor restlessly and moodily.

"I would we had got him off before this coil began. But who could have thought it would come—and Brother Emmanuel so true and faithful a son of the Church? Knowest thou, wife, that he keeps vigil three nights in the week in the chantry, watching sleeplessly, lest the Lord coming suddenly should find the whole house sleeping? Edred keeps watch one night, and good old Margaret another. I did but lately know this thing. Brother Emmanuel holds that the Church should ever be watching and waiting for her Lord, lest He come as a thief in the night. He would have prayers ceaselessly ascending before Him. It is his grief and pain that within the cloister walls, whence he has come, no true vigil is kept, but that sloth and ease have taken the place of watching and vigil and prayer. And such a man as that they would have me deliver to his death!"

"Art sure they mean him ill, my husband? It seems scarce possible."

"I am very sure that it is so," answered the knight, with a stern glance bent upon the sunny landscape beyond the open window. "It is strange, but it is true; and I sometimes think that some fearful and unlooked-for judgment must some day fall upon men who—"

But Sir Oliver paused, for his wife had made a gesture, as if to check the impetuous words that sprang to his lips. He smiled a little darkly.

"Thou art right, good dame. Such words are better left unspoke. If it be dangerous to think some things, it be more dangerous to speak one's thoughts. Let it be enough for us that the Lord reigneth, be the earth never so unquiet. He sitteth a judge and a king. In His hands are the final issues of all things."

The lady bent her head with due reverence, and then asked eagerly:

"And when does the fishing smack sail?"

Sir Oliver shook his head impatiently.

"Not for full fourteen days: it had but just come into port, and there be much merchandise to unlade and lade again. The skipper was an honest fellow, and a true-hearted man to boot. He would not take my gold, but said his passenger should bring it with him when he came; for he knew there was a chance he might not contrive to come, and he would not receive aught for services he might never have power to render. But he knows his business, and once safe on board the sloop our fugitive will be safe enow. But not till it be almost ready for sea—not till the skipper could weigh anchor at a moment's notice. He himself said he must not come aboard till the last moment. Were any hue and cry to be made after him, any vessel in port would be certain to be searched. How to keep him safe for these fourteen—nay, it is but twelve days now—is the thing that is perplexing me. Until the close of the appointed week naught will be done; but there will be one long week after that which will tax our resources to the utmost. And this summons from the prior makes the whole question the more difficult."

"And the boys say that the house is being watched. Hast not heard as much? There be spies from the priory posted round and about. All the gates are watched. Edred thinks it is to strive to seize Brother Emmanuel should he venture forth from the shelter of the walls.

"I like not the thought of all those prying eyes. My husband, these be strange times in which we dwell."

Sir Oliver's face was dark and thoughtful.

"Ay, verily they be. How can men wonder that the ignorant and unlearned turn with loathing and scorn from such crooked and cowardly ways?—

"How now, Julian? Hast learned the cause of this ado? What says the lay brother? Hast thou sounded him with care and with all due caution?"

Julian and Edred came in together. Julian looked flushed and excited, Edred pale and thoughtful, and his eyes were glowing with a strange fire.

"Ay, verily, we have found it all out," cried the younger boy, with eager excitement of manner. "Methinks it will be a fine sight. Father, hast heard of the thing which men call the 'Great Abjuration'—was not that the name, Edred?"

The elder boy made a sign of assent.

"It is for the heretics and Lollards," pursued Julian eagerly. "It hath been done before in many places, and here it is to be done two days from hence. All those persons who are suspected of heresy, or have been found guilty, are to be called before the lord prior and the Lord of Mortimer, and they will be bidden to abjure all their false doctrines publicly. The whole village will be assembled to hear them recant; high and low, rich and poor, all are to meet together in the great quadrangle of the priory to hear and see. The lay brother says it will be a fine sight. If they will not recant, the prior will give them over to the Lord of Mortimer, who will see that they suffer as heretics are wont to do. If they abjure their errors, the prior will set them their penances; and these be no light thing, by what the brother says. Some will be branded in the cheek, that they carry the mark of their shame all their days; some will have a green badge affixed to their arm, to wear until they have leave to cast it off, that all men may know they have been touched by the pollution; whilst others will be set to menial toil in the monasteries, and will perchance spend the rest of their lives there, sundered from their friends and their homes and all those whom they love.

"In truth, I marvel how any man can meddle with heresy in these days. The bishops have resolved to stamp it out once and for all, and methinks they will do so right well if they take such steps as these."

Sir Oliver's face looked a little relieved as he heard his son's words.

"Then everybody within the district is to be summoned to meet at the priory upon this same day?"

"Ay, verily; all are to be there, from the highest to the lowest. The lay brothers are going round the country, bidding all to the spectacle. It is thought that after all have seen what will take place upon that day, there will be no longer any fear of heresy round Chad and Mortimer."

The boy ran off to try to learn more details. Edred stood looking at his father with troubled eyes.

"Father," he said, in a low voice, "must Brother Emmanuel go with us that day?"

Sir Oliver looked down at the paper in his hands.

"It bids me to attend with my family and all my household, save such as must be left to take due care of the house in my absence," said he. Then he paused awhile in silent thought, and looking up he said suddenly, "Go fetch Brother Emmanuel hither."

Edred vanished silently and swiftly, and soon afterwards returned with the monk at his side.

The past few days had left their mark on the thin, spiritual face of the young ecclesiastic. The knowledge of the peril in which he stood had not daunted his courage, though it had drawn lines in his face and deepened the fire which burned within those dark, resolute eyes. His face looked as though he had slept but little, as though his nights had been passed in watching and prayer, as was indeed the case. He had an air of calm, resolute courage and hopefulness, though it was plain that he knew the danger of his position, and was fully alive to the peril which menaced him.

Sir Oliver placed the paper in his hand, and watched him silently whilst he perused it. When he had finished he handed it back, and stood for a moment looking out of the window with an expression of thoughtful concentration on his face. At the end of a few moments he looked up quickly, and said:

"You and yours will attend, Sir Oliver?"

"Yes; we must needs do that. But you?"

Brother Emmanuel lifted his head and threw it back with a gesture of resolution and independence.

"Sir Oliver," he said, "upon the day when your household is bidden to the priory, I cease, by the command of my superior, to be a member of this household. Upon that day your command over me (if I may use the word)—your responsibility over me—ceases. Whatever I may do or not do is no concern of yours. I am no longer the instructor of your sons, nor the priest within your walls. What I do I do of mine own self. None can rightly call you to task for it. Let that be your safeguard; let that be your answer to all questions. The prior has ordained that from that day I cease to remain here. From the dawning of that day you have no part nor lot in my life. I take its control into mine own hands, and it were better you should not even know whither I go nor what I do."

Sir Oliver bent a searching look upon him.

"So be it," he answered, after a moment's thought. "But this one word I say to thee: Thou hast been true and faithful to me and mine; wherefore my roof and my walls shall be thy shelter until thou goest forth of thine own freewill. Be not afraid to remain here with me. I will defend thee with every power I have until such time as thou mayest safely escape beyond the seas."

He held out his hand. The monk took it and pressed it between both of his.

"The Lord deal with thee and thine as thou hast dealt with me," was the reply, spoken in deep, earnest accents.

The knight bent his head in response to the benediction; and Brother Emmanuel moved silently away, closely followed by Edred, who looked pale and troubled.

"Thou dost not think he will present himself at the priory with the rest of the world?" asked Lady Chadgrove, with anxiety in face and voice; and her husband thoughtfully shook his head as he made reply:

"I trow not. I have spoken to him of that before, and he was very well resolved to fly the country and strive to finish the work he has begun, to join the band who are toiling might and main to bring a purer and holier spirit within the pale of the Church and her servants. It is a work to which he has long felt called, and he believes that it will be faithfully carried out somewhere, if not here. For a while he will be safer beyond the seas; but he may return and join with those in Oxford and London who are toiling in the same cause. He knows of the sloop—where it lies and when it sails; and I trow he is laying plans of his own. It were better not to ask of these. I would rather walk in ignorance. A man cannot betray, however inadvertently, what he knows not, and the subtle skill in questioning possessed by our reverend prior might win the secret from any unskilled person ere he knew he had revealed it. I know not what he means to do, nor shall I seek to know. But he has courage, spirit, and a consciousness of integrity which may carry him through much. Methinks he has judged wisely and well both for us and himself.

"When this day comes," touching the paper in his hand, "it is very true that I am no longer accountable for him as a member of my house hold. He has received his recall from his superior. It is for him to answer to it or not as he thinks best."

A sense of excitement and uneasiness pervaded the whole of the house during the two following days. In all men's mouths was talk of this solemn abjuration which was about to be forced upon all those suspected of heresy; and many persons who had tampered slightly and privately with doubtful matters went about looking uneasy and troubled, fearful lest they might find themselves accused of illicit practices, and be summoned forth to do penance in a more or less severe form before they could hope to receive absolution.

Sir Oliver Chadgrove's household was strictly orthodox in all outward matters; but the leaven of Lollardism was wonderfully penetrating, and he himself had suspected and feared that some of his servants might be tainted therewith. He awaited the day with almost as much anxiety as any of his dependants, for he well knew that the Lord of Mortimer would lose no opportunity of dealing him a heavy blow; and if he could be proved guilty of harbouring heretics or even suspected persons in his house, it would give his enemy a handle against him that he would not be slow to use.

As for the boys, it was plain that something of unwonted excitement was agitating their minds; but in the general anxiety pervading the whole household little account was taken of this.

The day came at last, dawning fair and clear. Sir Oliver assembled his household early in the courtyard, and every retainer was clad in his best and mounted upon his best charger. It was well to make a goodly display of strength and wealth on an occasion like the present. Doubtless the Lord of Mortimer would be there with all his train, and Chad must not cut a much poorer figure in the eyes of the beholders.

None knew better than Sir Oliver how far a goodly seeming went in condoning offences and allaying suspicion, especially in the eyes of such a worldly-wise man as the Prior of Chadwater. A proud bearing, a goodly following, a gorgeous retinue, would be a far better proof of orthodoxy in his eyes than any saintliness of life and conduct. Mortimer would know that right well, though, as he had been elected as the secular agent to assist the prior in his work today, plainly no stigma of any kind was thought to rest upon his household. Sir Oliver knew that Mortimer was a larger property than Chad, and that the baron was a greater man than the knight. It was reasonable enough that he had been selected for this office, and such choice need imply no distrust of himself on the prior's part; but still there was an uneasy, underlying consciousness that he was suspected and watched, and the espionage which had been kept up all this while on his house was a plain proof that he was not entirely trusted.

The priory and its adjacent buildings formed a very fine specimen of medieval architecture. The abbey was in itself a masterpiece of beauty, and the great block formed by refectories and dormitories stood at right angles to it. The prior's house, with its ample accommodation and its guest chambers, formed an other side to the great quadrangle; whilst the granaries, storehouses, and such-like buildings formed the fourth—the whole enclosing a very large space, which formed the exercising ground of the monks when they were kept by their rules within the precincts of their home.

The smoothest of green grass, carefully kept and tended, formed the carpet of this enclosure; and today the whole quadrangle formed an animated and picturesque spectacle on account of the shifting, many-coloured groups of people gathered together there with looks of expectation and wonder.

A holiday appearance was presented by the crowd; for however ill at ease any person might feel, it was his aim and object to look as jovial and well assured as possible. Every knee was bent whenever any monk appeared. The professions of reverence and orthodoxy were almost comic in their display.

The whole of the rural population had gathered in this open space when the master of Chad and his retainers rode in, followed by the humbler servants and many women and children on foot. But the Lord of Mortimer had not yet put in an appearance, though some of his retainers and men-at-arms might be seen mingling with the crowd; and Sir Oliver and his wife and sons looked curiously about them as they reined back their horses against the wall, wondering whether they should dismount altogether, and what the order of the day's proceedings was to be.

There were two great raised platforms at one end of the open enclosure, and upon these platforms, both of which were draped with cloth, many seats had been arranged. One of these was canopied, and was plainly for the prior; but beyond this Sir Oliver could be sure of nothing.

When, however, it became known that the party from Chad had arrived, a lay brother came out and bid them dismount and send away their steeds to the meadow beyond, where one or two of the servants could see to them; and as soon as this had been done, Sir Oliver was told that he and his lady would occupy certain seats upon one of the platforms, but that there would not be room for more than his eldest son to have a place there beside him. The younger boys must remain in the crowd.

Edred and Julian were well pleased at this, and gave each other a quick pressure of the hand. Edred was intensely excited; and gradually edged his way to a good position not far from the platform, that he might hear and see everything; and Julian stood beside him, as intent upon the proceedings as anyone.

With a great show of ecclesiastical pomp, forth came the prior with his monks in attendance, and closely following them the haughty Lord of Mortimer; with his son-in-law, Sir Edward Chadwell, by his side, and his daughter following her husband. With these came many knights and persons of standing in the county; and whilst the prior and the monks grouped themselves upon one platform, the barons, knights, and nobles took their appointed places on the other, the owners of Mortimer and Chad being for once in their lives elbow to elbow, and constrained to exchange words and looks of greeting.

A deep hush fell upon the crowd, and the people surged back against the walls, leaving the centre space vacant. At the same time certain men wearing the garb and the air of jailers or executioners came forth and stood in the midst of the open space—one of them bearing the glowing brazier and the branding iron, which he placed on a slab of stone in the very centre of the enclosure.

When all preparations were complete, the prior arose, and in a loud and solemn voice commanded that the prisoners should be brought forth—those persons who had not been merely suspected of heresy, but had been found with heretical books in their possession, or were known to be in the habit of meeting together to read such books and hear the pestilent doctrines which vile and wicked persons were propagating in the land.

At that command a number of monks appeared, leading bound, and in scant and miserable clothing, about a score of men and women, foremost amongst whom was the hunchback, whose face and voice were alike well known to Edred. Most of the prisoners were trembling and cowering; but he held his head erect, and looked calmly round upon the assembled potentates. There was no fear or shrinking in his pinched face. He eyed the prior with a look as unbending as his own.

Then began a long harangue from the great man, in which the wiles of the devil in the pestilent doctrines of the heretics, so-called Lollards, were forcibly and not illogically pointed out. When no man might give answer, when none might show where misrepresentation came in, where there was nothing given but the one side of the question, it was not difficult to make an excellent case against the accused. The early heretics, mostly unlettered people, always marred the purity of the cause by falling into exaggeration and foolishness, by denouncing what was good as well as what was corrupt in a system against which they were revolting—thus laying themselves open to attack and confutation, and alienating from them many who would have striven to stand their friend and to have gently set them right had they been less headstrong and less prone to tear away and condemn every practice the meaning of which they were, through ignorance and want of comprehension, unable to enter into.

In the hands of the skilful prior their doctrines were indeed made to look vile and blasphemous and foolish in the extreme. Many persons shuddered at hearing what words had been used by them with regard to the holy sacraments; and most of the persons brought to their trial were weeping and terrified at their own conduct before the prior's speech was half through. Only the hunchback retained his bold front, and looked back with scorn into the face of the prelate as he made point after point in his scathing denunciation.

When the harangue ended, the prior made a sign to his servants, and immediately one of the most timorous and craven of the prisoners was brought up before him. He was far too cunning a judge to try first to bend the spirit of the hunchback. He knew that with that man he could do nothing, and he knew too what marvels were sometimes accomplished by the example of self devotion. So commencing with a weak and trembling woman, who was ready to sink into the ground with fear and shame merely at being thus had up before the eyes of the whole place, he easily obtained a solemn recantation and abjuration of every form of heresy; and in a tone of wonderful mildness, though of solemn warning, too, told her that since she was a woman and young, and had doubtless been led away by others, she should be pardoned after she had paid a visit barefoot to a shrine forty miles off—a shrine much derided by the heretic teachers—and had returned in like fashion, having tasted nothing but bread and water the whole time of the journey.

Then came, one after another, the weakest and most timorous of the craven crowd. The infection of fear had seized upon them. Ignorant, superstitious, scarcely understanding the new teachings that had attracted them, and fearfully terrified of falling under the ban of the Church under whose shelter they had always lived, was it wonderful that one after another should abjure their heretical opinions, and swear to listen to the enticer no more? Some strove to ask questions upon the points which troubled them; but scarce any sort of disputing was allowed. The prior was subtle in fence, and by a few scathing words could generally quell the questioner and make him wish his objection unspoken.

And those who showed a tendency towards disputation were far more harshly dealt with than those who abjured at once. The red-hot iron, the badge of shame, the servitude which might be lifelong were imposed upon them. So a sense of despair fell upon the little band, and they yielded one by one; only three refusing to take the words of the oath—the hunchback and two more, one being a lad of about sixteen summers; and after using every threat and argument to overcome their obstinacy, the prior called upon the Lord of Mortimer as the representative of the secular arm, and delivered the prisoners over to him to be dealt with after the manner of the law.

A shuddering groan went up, as if involuntarily, from many throats as the prisoners were led away by the guards of Mortimer. The prior looked sternly round to check the demonstration, reminding the people that the burning of the body was as nothing, it was the eternal burning of the soul in hell that men should fear; and that if in the midst of the flames the guilty persons recanted their sins, it was just possible that even then the merciful God would hear and receive their prayer, and that they might be saved from the eternal death of the soul.

Then somewhat changing his tone, though still speaking with gravity and even with sadness, he told the people of the pain with which he had heard stories of the sympathy evinced by some even amongst those standing about him for the wicked and pestilent disturbers of the public peace and the safety of the Church. One or two persons he called upon by name, and rebuked with some severity for words reported to have been dropped by them which savoured, if not of heresy itself, yet of carelessness and irreverence for sacred things which bordered dangerously on heresy. One after another these persons came forward trembling, asked pardon, and were dismissed not unkindly, but with many an admonition for the future. It was made plain and patent to all that the bishops had absolutely resolved to stamp out heresy once and for all; and for once the prior and abbots, the monks and the friars, were in accord and working hand in hand. It was useless for any to hope to stem such a tide as that—such was the tenor of the prior's speech—heresy was to be exterminated. On that point there was no manner of doubt; and if, knowing this, persons chose deliberately to put themselves under the ban of the law, well, their blood must be upon their own head. Neither God nor man would have mercy upon them.

Several of the retainers and a few of the actual household of Chad had received admonitions of this sort. Sir Oliver looked on uneasily, catching a subdued look of triumph in the eyes of his rival and foe. He did not believe his household seriously tainted with heresy. He knew that certain of them who had been with him in London had imbibed the teaching of Dean Colet and his pupils, and he did not know, any more than the dean himself, that the Lollards secretly encouraged each other to go and hear a man who spoke so much of the truth they themselves held.

The line where orthodoxy ends and heresy begins has been at all times hard to define, and perhaps the upholders of the "Church" knew as little as anybody how hard this definition was becoming.

Several persons had stood forth (invited by the prior to do so) and confessed to dangerous sentiments which they now saw to be utterly wrong, and vowed to abjure forever; or had accused other persons of words which required explanation, or of deeds which suggested a leaning towards secret meetings where heresy might be discussed.

But the day's proceedings seemed drawing to a close, and nothing of any great peril to the Lord of Chad had occurred, when just at the close of the afternoon Brother Fabian suddenly came forward and whispered a few words in the prior's ear; and he, after a moment of apparent hesitation, spoke aloud.

"It is with great grief that I learn that one of our own brethren has been heard to utter words which sound strangely like those of heresy; but since it is our bounden duty that strict justice be done to all, whether high or low, rich or poor, nay, whether it be our own son or brother, I here call upon Brother Emmanuel to stand forth publicly, as others have done, and answer the charge brought against him."

The prior looked round as he spoke these words in a loud voice; but there was no movement either in the crowd or amongst the cowled monks, and he spoke the name again without eliciting any response.

The Lord of Mortimer leaned forward and spoke to his neighbour.

"Methinks this brother was a member of your household, Sir Oliver," he said, with a gleam of malice in his eye. "Surely you received a mandate bidding you come with all your household. Where is this preceptor of your sons?"

"His duties ceased last night," replied Sir Oliver calmly, in a tone loud enough to reach the prior's ears. "He had command to return today to the priory, and last evening he said farewell to me and mine. I have not seen him today."

"Did he know of the summons to all to attend the gathering here today?"

Sir Oliver bent his head.

"He did. I showed him the paper myself."

"Then wherefore is he not here?"

"That know I not. I did not know he was not here. I do not know it even now. I have never known Brother Emmanuel fail in obedience yet."

The name was being whispered all round. The monks were professing to be searching for the missing brother. The prior looked at Sir Oliver with some sternness.

"Where is this monk?" he asked,

"I do not know," was the firm response. "I have not seen him since his farewell yesternight."

"You thought he was coming hither?"

"I knew naught. He told me naught of his purposes."

The prior's eyes flashed ominously.

"Have a care, Sir Oliver, have a care. Brother Emmanuel is yet within the walls of Chad. I have reason to know he has not left them the whole of this past week. He has been disobedient to his vow of submission. He has not come at my bidding."

"I know naught of it," replied the knight calmly.

The Lord of Mortimer leaned forward once more with an evil smile in his eyes.

"Let not mistaken generosity get the better of prudence, my brother," he said, with derisiveness in his tone. "You know well that the penalty of hiding and harbouring a heretic is little short of that of heresy itself. Have a care you do not lose all just for the caprice of the moment, which in time to come you will have leisure bitterly to repent."

The prior, too, was eying him sternly.

"Lord Mortimer gives good counsel, Sir Oliver," he said. "Thou knowest I am no enemy of thine. What has this day passed must have shown thee that. Thou knowest that there be some here who might have been called before me today to answer for their deeds who have been spared for their youth and gentle birth. Thou hast had proof that I am no enemy of thine. But the walls of Chad must not harbour a heretic. Brother Emmanuel is there; he hath been there, and hath not sallied forth this many days, showing that a guilty conscience keeps him within. He cannot go forth without my knowledge; and if thou wilt not give him up to me, I must obtain authority and have the house searched and the man dragged forth. And I tell thee freely, if it be found that thou hast lent thine aid in harbouring a heretic and disobedient monk, thy lands will be forfeit, if not thy life, and the Lord of Mortimer will be likewise Lord of Chad."

At that moment, had any person had eyes to heed it, it might have been observed that Edred and Julian slipped like veritable shadows through the packed crowd. The next moment they had reached the gateway, had passed under it without exciting any observation, and as soon as they reached the cover of the forest, they set off to run towards Chad as fast as their legs could carry them—far faster than their horses could have borne them through the narrow paths of the tangled wood.



Chapter VIII: Hidden Away.

Fleetly, silently, untiringly ran the two brothers, without exchanging a single word of their purpose even to each other. The distance from the priory to the house was a matter of some two miles, but to the trained and hardy limbs of the country-bred lads a two miles' run was a trifle, and they were only slightly flushed and winded when they paused, by mutual consent, a short distance from Chad, at a point where the tall turrets and battlements became visible over the treetops.

Julian, who was a few paces in advance, pulled up short, and caught his brother by the arm.

"Hist!" he whispered cautiously. "I trow the prior's spies be still on the watch. We must not be seen coming in this guise. Let us wait a few moments till our breath be returned; then we will go forward boldly and openly.

"Edred, have a care how thou answerest me when I shall speak to thee anon. We have a part to play, and Brother Emmanuel's life may hang upon how we play it."

Edred nodded assent. He was more weary, because more deeply excited, than his brother, and no sleep had visited his eyes the previous night. It had been spent with Brother Emmanuel in vigil in the chantry. The strain of watching and deeply-seated anxiety was telling upon the boy. He was glad that Julian had all his wits about him, for his own head seemed swimming and his mind unhinged.

They stood silent awhile, until both had regained their breath; then putting on their caps, which for convenience they had carried in their hands hitherto, they started forth again at a leisurely pace, and with an air of openness and fearlessness, in the direction of the main entrance, talking to each other as they went in no softened tones.

"It was a fine sight!" cried Julian. "I would not have missed it for worlds. That villainous hunchback! So he was a damnable heretic after all! I grieve we ever stood his friend. May he perish like the vile creature he is! I will ask Brother Emmanuel to set me a penance for having touched him that day when we thought him an innocent trader.

"Edred, thinkest thou that it can be true that Brother Emmanuel is himself a heretic? If it be, we must drive him forth with blows and curses. To sit down at board with a heretic, to hear teaching from his lips! Beshrew me, but one might as well have a friend from the pit for an instructor! It cannot be; surely it cannot be."

The boy spoke hotly and angrily. He had stopped short as if in the heat of argument, and Edred saw by the flash in his eye that he had caught sight of some lurking spy close at hand.

"Belike no," answered Edred cautiously, but taking his cue instantly from the other. "I did not well hear what Brother Fabian said; surely it could be naught so bad as that?"

"I scarcely heard myself. I was something aweary by that time of the spectacle, and methought all the heretics had been dealt with. I saw that thou, like myself, wouldst fain stretch thy limbs once again, and I had shifted too far away to be certain what was said. But I did hear the name of Brother Emmanuel spoken, and there was a call for him, and he came not.

"Edred, can it be that he feared to come? Hath he a guilty conscience? If that be so, shall we strive to find him and keep watch upon him ourselves, that if the good prior comes to search for him at Chad we may be able to give him up, though he have hidden himself never so cunningly?"

"Marry, a good thought. It is certainly something strange that he did not come at the prior's summons-and he a brother of the order too. Sure, it looks somewhat as though he were afraid. But if that be so, we shall scarce find him at Chad. He will have benefited by the absence of the household to make good his escape.

"Beshrew me, but he is a crafty knave. Who would have thought it of him?"

"When men turn heretic they seem to be indued with all the cunning of the devil!" cried Julian hotly. "But let us not dally here; let us run within and strive to seek and to find him. It may be he will think he may hide himself the better in some nook or corner of the house, since he be well known all around; and the good prior said somewhat of having kept a watch upon him. But I trow he cannot hide so well but what we shall find him. I would fain earn my forgiveness for having shielded one heretic by helping to give up another.

"Come, Edred, let us be going. Those priests are as crafty as foxes when the heretic leaven gets into them."

The brothers dashed away again towards the house; and when once within the shelter of the walls, Julian nipped his brother's hand, saying in a whisper:

"There was a spy overhead who drank in every word. He had no notion mine eyes had seen him, for he was marvellous well concealed, and I never should have found his hiding place had I not chanced one day to see him climbing into it. Nobody will suspect now that we have had a hand in the hiding of the good brother. But let us make all haste, for no man knows when the bloodhounds may be upon us to strive to take him away."

Edred's face was very pale, but steady and resolved. He understood, better perhaps than his younger brother, the peril of the enterprise upon which they had embarked. But he did not shrink from that one whit, only he did hope and trust that his father would never be implicated by their conduct; for if, after all, the priest were to be found hidden within the precincts of Chad, it was easy to prophesy a great reverse of fortune to all who dwelt therein.

However, even that consideration did not move him at this moment. Brother Emmanuel, their preceptor and friend and comrade (for he had been all three to his pupils during his residence beneath their roof), stood in deadly peril of his life, and to save him from the malice of his foes must be the first consideration now. The existence of the secret chamber was not known even to their father. Not a soul in the house or in the world knew of it save the three brothers and Warbel. Warbel was absolutely to be trusted. He owed too much himself to that retreat to wish to betray its existence to others, and he loathed and hated the whole household of Mortimer; and it was very plain to all concerned that Mortimer was working hand in hand with the prior in this matter—the one to obtain possession of the person of the offending monk, the other to find cause of accusation against the owner of Chad for harbouring and concealing a suspected person, in defiance of the laws of the land and of the Church.

That there was conspiracy afoot against Chad and its master Edred did not for a moment doubt; but the first consideration must now be the safe hiding of Brother Emmanuel, and the boys dashed eagerly through the empty house, to find him in the little chantry, where so many of his hours were spent.

He was reading the office of vespers without any congregation to assist. Instinctive reverence caused the boys to kneel in silence till the brief service concluded, and then, after prostrating themselves before the altar, they beckoned vehemently to the monk to follow them, and conducted him up a narrow winding stair, but little used, to the large sleeping chamber which the three brothers had shared ever since their early childhood.

Once there Julian carefully locked the door, whilst Edred in brief and graphic words told the story of that day's spectacle. Brother Emmanuel listened calmly, with his features set into an expression which the boys were beginning to know well, although they did not read its meaning aright. Sternness and resolve were strangely blended with an infinite compassion and a look of almost divine tenderness; his words were few, and carried little of their meaning home to the hearts of the boys.

"And thus they strive, thus they think to check the growth of the evil weed by fire and by the sword! Yet even nature may teach them that the burned field only yields the richer crop, and that the plough tearing its way along is a fertilizer of the earth. Would to heaven they would send forth evangelists from the Church, not with fire and sword, but with the sword of the Spirit—the Word of God—with the lamp of life in their hands; not to deny the people that life-giving fount, but to give them to drink through the channels God Himself has appointed! Then, indeed, methinks heresy would soon cease to exist. But theirs is not the way; God who dwelleth in the heavens will soon show them that. Theirs is not the way!"

But time there was none now for one of those conversations in which Edred's heart delighted. Julian burst in then with the story of the latest scene in that solemn spectacle—of the whispered words of Brother Fabian; of the call for Brother Emmanuel; of the appeal made to Sir Oliver, and his reply; and finally of the certainty that the house would speedily be searched, and the necessity of getting into safe hiding before that happened.

"Safe hiding!" said Brother Emmanuel with a slight smile; "my kind pupils, there can be no safe hiding from the messengers sent forth from the Church. Wherever I am they will find and drag me forth. I am grateful for all the goodness shown to me at Chad by all within its walls; but none shall suffer on my account. It hath not pleased God to open to me a way of escape, wherefore I must now yield myself to the will of my enemies; and it were better to go forth and be taken by the spies without than to remain here a source of peril to those within these walls."

"But there is yet another way!" cried Edred with flashing eyes. "Thou shalt not go forth, and yet thou shalt not be a source of peril to any living soul. Brother Emmanuel, methinks it was God's doing, or that of the holy saints, that this hap befell us which revealed to us a safe hiding place of which none knows but ourselves, not even our father and mother, and the secret of which we have preserved unto this day, resisting the temptation to divulge it to any living soul. Time presses. When we are there I will tell thee all the tale—how this secret place came to our knowledge. But now let us tarry no longer, but come quickly and see for thyself. Once within that friendly shelter thou wilt have naught to fear save the loneliness to which thou art well used.

"See, there is Julian already opening the door. Come, my father, come!"

Julian had kindled the little lamp the boys had constructed for themselves, and which was much upon the principle of a modern bull's-eye, and could be safely carried through draughty passages without flickering or going out; and now the wondering monk allowed Edred to take him by the hand and lead him step by step along the narrow, tortuous passage. Julian closed the door behind them, showing how the cleverly-contrived spring acted; then they proceeded step by step in cautious silence—for this passage skirted a great portion of the house, and was very long—towards their destination, till at last they stood within the secret chamber itself; and Julian extinguished the light, to let the evening sunshine filter in and show how much of illumination it could give.

"Now, Brother Emmanuel, let us show you all," said Edred eagerly; "for methinks it must be very few visits we must pay thee, and those at dead of night. For I much mistake me if we be not closely watched by some spy of the prior's these next days, and it will not do for any to think we have hidden haunts of our own."

"Nay, nay, my children; ye must not run into peril for me. Far rather would I—"

"I know—I know!" cried Edred. "But in truth thou needst not fear to rest here. This is the lost chamber, the secret of which had perished for well nigh a generation, till kindly fortune made it known to us. All men think that the chamber lay in the portion of Chad that was destroyed in the late wars. None dream it still exists. But here it is, and Bertram has made out little by little exactly where it lies, and I will tell it thee.

"This portion at the lower and darker end is jammed in betwixt the ceiled roof of the great gun room and that attic chamber where the dry roots are stored away in the winter months before the frost binds them into the ground. None enter that attic in the summertide save rats and mice, and though there may be many passing to and fro in the gun room, no sound from here can penetrate there; for we have tried times and again, when there has been none by to hear, if we can make each other hear sounds from either place. From the gun room noise will, if very great, penetrate hither; but nothing thou canst do will make them below hear thee.

"Then this wider and lighter and loftier portion, where the light comes in, is but a space filched away from the roofs and leads, and jammed in in such a fashion that it would defy a magician to find it from without. We tried days and days and could not do it, and never did, albeit we can climb like cats and had an inkling where it was—until we put Julian within to shout aloud and guide us by his voice. It is so placed that none can get really nigh to those places where the cracks are made to let in the light and air. Thou needst not fear, though all the monks in the priory come to search, that this hiding place will ever be found."

The monk looked around the narrow chamber and drew an involuntary breath of relief. If indeed this thing were so, if indeed he might lie hidden from discovery and defy the most stringent search, might it not be a God-appointed means of salvation for him? Might he not be doing wrong in insisting upon falling into the hands of men? Would it indeed be possible for him to secrete himself without bringing down upon others the wrath he himself would escape?

Whilst he stood thus debating with himself, the boys pulled him by the sleeve and spoke eagerly, though involuntarily in low tones.

"And see further. Here is food laid up against this day. It will all keep for many weeks. It is but poor fare, but not poorer than thou art well used to—salted meat, and dried fish, and oaten cake; which keeps moist far longer than any other. Here are a few confections, and here is wine, and a jar of good mead. As for water, it may be had at this trough here, and a goodly supply; only it comes with somewhat of a rush, and the bung is not easily rammed back in its place. It is best to raise the tube—so—in the hand; but we could not make shift to do better. There is the lantern, and oil in this vessel, and none can see the light at night from any place when it is burned. I have placed three books in you corner—I dared not take more from the library; but I knew thou wouldst have thy breviary with thee, and thou art never dull. If it may be done safely, one of us will visit thee from time to time; and if there is any way of escape open to thee, thou shalt surely hear thereof.

"But be not dismayed if days go by and thou hearest naught. It may be safer that thou shouldst be left quite alone. Thou wilt not think thyself forgotten?"

Brother Emmanuel's eyes were fixed with a tender gaze upon the faces of the bold, generous boys. He took their hands in his, and they bent the knee to receive his blessing. His words were few and brief, but each lad as he rose resolved deep down in his heart that he would suffer the penalty of death itself sooner than betray the secret hiding place and give the brother up to his foes.

Then with a few more last words respecting the hiding place and the arrangements made for the comfort of its occupant, the pair stole away, and soon found themselves safely within the walls of their own room, the door of which was still safely locked. They looked each other in the face with a proud, glad smile.

"It is done!" cried Edred, drawing a long breath.

"Nay, not altogether," answered Julian, with eyes that flashed with excitement; and drawing a step nearer his brother, he said in changed tones, "Now must that rascally priest have fled, and it behoves us to search the precincts of the place with all diligence. We must not leave a nook or a cranny unvisited, and must make a mighty coil. Thou takest me, brother, dost thou not?"

Edred made a quick, eager sign of assent.

"Ay, Julian, I do; and when we have done all that, let us back to the priory again. We must whisper in our father's ear that Brother Emmanuel is safe. Then will he act with a freer hand. And it were better, perchance, that we were all there to ride back with him when he takes his leave."

Julian assented at once to this proposition; and forth went the boys, at first calling aloud the name of their tutor, and then halting, always within earshot of one of the spies, to debate where he could have concealed himself, darting hither and thither, as if suddenly remembering some new place, and ever returning disappointed and vexed.

"He is a veritable fox!" cried Julian, flinging his cap on the ground in a well-assumed tempest of chagrin. "He must have left Chad altogether, for not a trace of him is here; and I looked to have the pleasure of bringing him ourselves before the reverend prior, to atone for having helped that other pestilent fellow to avoid for a while the hand of the law. A plague upon him and his cunning ways! Unless he have found the secret chamber our father knows of, and which he once took us to see, there be no other place in all Chad where he can be lurking, unless he has been moving from spot to spot at our approach. A pest upon the crafty rogue!"

"We shall do no good loitering here, since he be really gone," remarked Edred, in a tone of vexation very like his brother's; "perchance he may have fallen into the hands of the prior through the watch of which he spoke. I trust it may be so. But for us, I trow we had better go back to see the end of the day's spectacle. We can do no more at Chad. If he is hiding he will not dare come forth now, with all the folks returning so soon; and if he has got clean away, nothing we can do will bring him back."

Julian grumbled in the finest phrases he could think of as the two pursued their way back towards the priory, increasing their speed as they left Chad behind, and very quickly gaining the meadow, where the servants were already beginning to collect the horses and get them ready for their masters.

The day's proceedings were over. Refreshments were being served in the refectory to all of the better sort. Sir Oliver's two younger sons had never been missed; but Edred contrived to slip into the hall, and in passing beside his father's chair to whisper in his ear the four simple words:

"Brother Emmanuel is safe!"

None heard the whisper, not even Bertram, who was sitting next his father, though he read it in his brother's eye the next moment. Edred had affected to catch the clasp of his belt against his father's chair as he passed by, and in pausing to free it had bent his head and spoken the brief message.

No change passed over Sir Oliver's face. Not a creature present observed the trifling by-play. Wine had circulated freely, and much laughing and talking were going on. The prior had unbent from his judicial severity, and even the Lord of Mortimer was smiling and bland, although there was something in his aspect that suggested the fierce feline play of a man-eating creature biding its time and toying with its victim.

Just before the close of the feast Sir Oliver rose to his feet.

"My lord prior, and you knights and gentlemen," he said suddenly, addressing all those who sat at the board in one comprehensive glance round the table. "I have been not a little disturbed and astonished today by hearing that there is ill known of one who has been long a member of my household—Brother Emmanuel—whom the reverend prior himself sent forth to be the instructor of my sons, and who has always comported himself right reverently and seemly in my house. But inasmuch as there is cause of offence in him, and that he has this day refused obedience to his lawful superior, and has not come at the bidding of the prior, I cannot but own him in fault, and decline to have further dealings with him. I do not know whether he is yet at Chad. I have not seen him since his farewell last evening. But if he be yet there, let the Lord of Mortimer, or you, holy father, send a company of servants to bring him thence.

"I have heard it whispered around that he is hiding within the walls of Chad, and that we of that household know where he lurks. My reply to that whisper is a denial (which I will take upon oath if need be) that I know aught whatever about him; and furthermore, I will throw open my house, upon any day and at any time, to whatever persons shall be sent to seek him, and will aid them in every possible way in the finding of the offender."

A murmur of approval went round the company. The prior looked pleased, and a smile crossed his face.

The only person who did not seem gratified by this openness was the Lord of Mortimer, whose face contracted sourly, and who gave a keen glance at his rival, as though he would have read his very soul. But the calm gaze with which Sir Oliver returned this look did not appear to restore his equanimity, and he flashed a glance at his son-in-law which plainly betokened surprise and chagrin.

"Well spoken, Sir Oliver," said the prior; "and since I have excellent reason to know that the brother has not left Chad, and cannot do it without my knowledge, it is plain to me that he is hiding in some place there, albeit all unknown to you and yours. Wherefore, on the morrow, I myself, together with my good friend the Lord of Mortimer, will present ourselves at Chad, and make full search, and we shall no doubt find the heretic monk cowering away in some undreamed-of hiding place, and will drag him thence to the fate he so well merits.

"Chad has its secrets, has it not? I have heard of them in days gone by."

"It has several cunning nooks and crannies, but all of these will I myself display to you upon the morrow," replied the knight calmly; and the Lord of Mortimer arose with a crafty smile upon his face, and addressed the prior in these words:

"Reverend father, I do not willingly speak ill of my neighbours, least of all of one who is now near akin to me through the marriage of my daughter with Sir Edward, who comes of the old stock of Chad. Yet I cannot but state here, in this place, that I hold Sir Oliver to have drawn down suspicion upon himself by failing to give up Brother Emmanuel a week ago when it was demanded of him. There be something to my mind strange and unworthy in such an act; and I here call upon all men to witness that I verily believe we shall find this traitor monk sheltering within the walls of Chad, and that if this be so I shall openly accuse Sir Oliver before all the world—before the king himself—of harbouring traitors and heretics, and shall make petition that Chad and all that pertains to it be forfeit, as the penalty for such evil courses, and be given to the rightful lord by inheritance—Sir Edward Chadwell."

The partisans of Mortimer raised a cheer; those of Chad received the challenge with groans and curses. Sir Oliver spoke not a word, but sat with his head proudly erect, and his eyes gleaming somewhat dangerously; whilst the prior commanded silence by a gesture of his hand, and spoke to quell the tumult.

"My Lord of Mortimer, I have far more trust than you in the integrity of good Sir Oliver. I trow he will be able to clear himself of whatever suspicions lie upon him; and if the monk be found within his house, he shall have every opportunity of explaining his presence there. At the same time, I will not deny that it will look ill for him if he be found there; and that the tongues of all suspicious persons may be silenced, so that none shall say there has been opportunity for him to get the monk secretly away from the place, I will double the watch that has already been set around Chad, and I will send thither with Sir Oliver and his family two of my trustiest sons, Brother Fabian and Brother Nathaniel, to keep strict watch within doors, that there be no cause for any enemy to say that any there have aided an unlawful escape, or have striven to hide a miscreant from those who justly demand him."

Sir Oliver bent his head.

"Any brother coming from Chadwater will be an honoured guest at Chad," he said. "I was about to ask if Brother Fabian was to be sent thither to instruct my sons."

"Ay, and to find out what germs of heresy yon false monk may not have implanted!" cried Lord Mortimer, losing control of himself as he saw the calmness of his enemy, and felt that the prey he had so confidently looked to be his might even now slip from his grasp. "It was those lads from Chad who strove to protect yon miserable hunchback who will be burned to ashes for his sins ere three more days have gone by. How explain you such conduct as that, Sir Oliver? Are you and your dame rearing up a heretic brood, to cumber the land in days to come?"

But the prior here interposed somewhat sternly. He had no intention of allowing his table to be made the scene of a disturbance that might lead to bloodshed. He turned somewhat sternly upon the haughty baron, and his words were few and plain.

"My Lord of Mortimer, Sir Oliver has answered to me for that offence. You take something too much upon yourself in thus striving to sit in judgment, and that in mine own presence.

"And now, gentlemen, the sun will be shortly setting, and some of you have many miles to ride. We have done the day's work in a thorough and righteous fashion; and I will now give you my blessing, and dismiss you to your homes. I trust this may be the last time that I have to assemble you together to drive from amongst us those who are tainted by the curse of heresy."

Half an hour later the party for Chad were riding quietly homeward through the forest with two cowled monks in their company. The last charge to these from the prior had been:

"Thou, Brother Fabian, keep a sharp eye by night and by day upon the boys; and thou, Brother Nathaniel, upon the knight and his lady. If any of those are in the secret, be it your mission to find out and bring it home to them."



Chapter IX: The Search.

"If Brother Emmanuel is found, Chad will be forfeit."

Such was the burden of Edred's thoughts as he rode homeward at his brothers' side, just behind their father and mother, at the close of that eventful day's proceedings.

It was a thought that could not but be fraught with some terror to the boy, who knew that he had been instrumental in hiding the threatened monk, and that if by some gruesome chance the secret were to be discovered, their bitter enemy would make it an excuse for prosecuting his malicious and covetous purpose towards Chad with redoubled ardour, and with every prospect of success. At present the prior was standing neutral betwixt the two foes; at present the king was well disposed towards Sir Oliver. But should it be proved beyond dispute that he had set the Church at defiance, and had harboured a suspected heretic within his walls, then the prior would at once turn against him, and representations would be made to the king which would almost force him to turn away his favour. The Lord of Chad would be a disgraced and suspected person, whilst in all probability the wiles of the ambitious Mortimer would prove successful, and the claim of Sir Edward Chadwell would be admitted, and the estate pass into his hands.

The thought was maddening. The bare idea of being forced to leave the old home sent the hot blood coursing through the boy's body. If such a thing as that were to befall them, it would break their father's heart. And how should he ever hold up his head again, knowing that in some sort he had been the author of the mischief?

All the brothers had been heart and soul together in their desire to hide the brother from the wrath and unjust tyranny of the prior; but Edred felt as though the greatest responsibility had been his, though he could scarcely have said why.

Julian had certainly taken the lead in the final act of the drama; but Julian was yet a boy, and did not thoroughly realize the perils which might follow such a course. Edred did, and his face was grave and thoughtful; and when from time to time he stole a glance at Bertram, he saw that his elder brother's face was overcast and anxious, too.

They did not dare to exchange a single word upon the subject nearest to their hearts as they rode decorously behind their parents and the two monks. The whole train had to restrain their horses to the ambling pace of the steed bestridden by the monks, who were by no means skilled riders; and dusk had fallen ere they all rode into the courtyard of Chad, where the bustle of dismounting afforded the brothers the chance of escaping for a few minutes to their upper chamber together.

"We must not stay a minute; the spies will be after us!" whispered Bertram. "But one question I must ask. Is he there?"

"Yea, verily; and none need visit him for many days. It were better not.

"But, brothers both, lend me your strong arms here. I would move this great chest across the fireplace. Ask no question; I will show you why anon."

Edred was the speaker, and he indicated an enormous carved oak chest quite twelve feet in length, which was kept in this room to hold the clothing of the three lads. They did from time to time change its position in the room, so that no remark would be excited by the fact that it had been moved. As Edred wished to place it now, it would stand right across the fireplace, blocking entirely the secret door; but Bertram looked a little doubtfully at it when it was in place, saying tentatively:

"Thou dost not think it would draw attention to the carved pillars of the fireplace? We shall have cunning and crafty men to deal with on the morrow."

Edred smiled slightly.

"Wait till the morrow comes, and thou shalt see," he answered; and then the brothers hastened down again, knowing that any sudden disappearance on their part might be marked and held as suspicious.

They had not, however, been gone long enough to be missed, and the two monks who had been told off to keep watch within this house had but just made their way into the hall, where hot spiced wine was being dispensed, and the table set out for supper.

Notwithstanding the feast recently partaken of at the priory, the brothers appeared by no means loath to sit down once again, and Edred could not but observe how differently they comported themselves from Brother Emmanuel, and how thoroughly they appreciated the dainty viands which were brought out in their honour.

He did not mean to sit in judgment—he scarcely knew that he was doing so; yet as be watched their deep potations, and marked how they chose the best portions, and stinted themselves in no good thing, his stern young mind could not but rise up in revolt, the more so that these very men were actually here on purpose to strive to capture a brother of their own order, and deliver him over to death. And so far as the youth understood the matter, the offence for which it was resolved he should suffer was that he was too faithful to the vows he had taken upon himself, and too ardent in striving to enforce upon others the rules he held binding upon himself.

But at least if these brothers ate and drank merrily, they were not therefore the better watchers. They had smiled a little scornfully as he contrasted their good feeding and deep drinking and subsequent visible sleepiness with the spare and frugal meal always taken by Brother Emmanuel, to be followed as often as not by a long night vigil in the chantry. There was small look of watchfulness about these men. Any vigil kept by them would be but a mockery of the term. It was all they could do to stumble through the office of compline when the meal was ended and the household about to retire, and there was no suggestion on their part of wishing to remain to keep vigil.

But Edred resolved that he would watch again that night. He had done so the previous night with Brother Emmanuel, both thinking that it might be the last watch they would ever hold together. Now the boy felt that he could not sleep, at least for many hours; and since their mother had whispered to them that Brother Fabian was to share their room, since he said it was his duty to keep watch upon the boys till next morning, it seemed well to leave his bed for the drowsy monk, aid keep vigil himself in the silent chantry.

The brother looked puzzled when he heard what one of his young charges proposed to do. Edred looked him full in the face as he answered:

"Brother Emmanuel taught us that it were not well that all within the house should be sleeping. We know not when the Lord may appear—at midnight, at cock crowing, or in the morning; and methinks whenever He may come, He would gladly find one soul holding vigil and waiting for His appearing. Lock the door of the chantry upon me, my father. Thou canst see that there is but the one door by which we may come or go. If thou fearest to leave me here, lock the door upon me until such time as it pleases thee to release me."

The brother regarded the boy with perplexed looks, and slowly shook his head, as though such an attitude of mind were wholly incomprehensible. But he did not oppose his resolve. It would not do to appear astonished at the idea of keeping vigil. He passed out of the chantry muttering to himself, and Edred prostrated himself before the altar, above which the solitary lamp burned clear and bright, and offered up most earnest prayers for the safety of Brother Emmanuel, for the failure and discomfiture of his foes, and for his safe escape when the time was ripe into some country where his enemies were not like to find him.

How the hours of the night passed he scarcely knew. He might perhaps have slept at his post awhile, or have remained in a dreamy and passive state; for it did not seem long before the morning sun came glinting in at the eastern window, and the boy saw that the day had come which was to be a momentous one to Chad.

Before very long, sounds of life about, and later on within the house, warned him that he was not the only watcher now; and feeling very drowsy and weary, he resolved to creep upstairs and share Julian's couch for the remaining hours before the working day should commence.

He had not been locked into the chantry. Perhaps Brother Fabian felt a little shame in his suspicions, or perhaps he forgot to take the precaution. The door yielded to his touch, and he found himself at liberty to go where he would.

But before turning his steps to his room upstairs, he made an expedition to an outhouse on what appeared to be a curious errand. It was a dirty, neglected place, and was full of dust and flue and cobweb. The boy began deliberately collecting masses of this flue and web, and presently he swept up carefully a good-sized heap of dust, which he as deliberately placed in a wooden box, and proceeded to make in one end a number of small holes.

Carefully carrying away this strange load, and bearing it with great secrecy, the boy mounted the stairs very softly, and put down the handkerchief in which the flue was placed in the small unused room beside their sleeping chamber. With the box still in his hands he stole on tiptoe into the room and looked carefully round him.

His brothers were sleeping lightly, looking as though they would be easily and speedily aroused. But the monk was snoring deeply, and the bloated face which was turned towards him displayed that abandonment of repose which bespeaks a very sound and even sottish slumber.

The boy looked with repulsion at the flushed face, the open mouth, and dropped jaw. Something in the expression of that sleeping face filled him with scorn and loathing. No danger of this man's awakening; his half-drunken sleep was far too heavy and sodden.

Edred stepped lightly across the room towards the chest which he had had moved the previous evening, and lying at full length along the floor, he proceeded to shake his box after the manner of a pepper pot until he had made beneath the chest a soft layer of dust which looked like the accumulation of weeks. It was deftly and skilfully done, and although he looked critically at the after effect, to make sure there was nothing artificial about the aspect, he could not detect anything amiss.

The next step was to carry away his box, empty it out of a window, and break in pieces the perforated part, that there might be no tracing his action in this matter. Then gaining possession of his handkerchief full of flue, he stole softly back again, and laid great flakes between the legs of the chest and the wall, stuffed light fragments into the interstices of the carving, and laid them upon any projecting ledge that was likely to have caught such light dirt as it filtered through the air.

A soft movement in the room told him that his brothers were awake and watching him, though the monk still snored on in his stertorous fashion. One after the other the pair stole from their beds and looked for a moment at this skilful travesty of nature's handiwork, and both nodded in token of approval and congratulation.

Edred had an artist's eye for effect, and did not spoil his handiwork by overdoing it. The result produced was exactly as if the chest had stood for some time in its present position, so that the dust had gathered beneath it and the flue had clung to the wall behind it. No one looking at its position there could doubt that it had been there for a period of some weeks.

Satisfied with the result of his manoeuvre, the boy flung away the rest of his spoil, and throwing himself upon one of his brothers' beds was soon lost in healthy sleep.

When he awoke the sun was high in the sky, and he found himself alone with Father Fabian, who appeared likewise only just to have awakened.

Brother Emmanuel would long ago have held early mass in the chantry, but this new inmate appeared by no means disposed to follow in the footsteps of his predecessors. He rubbed his eyes, and seemed scarce to know where he was; but he accepted Edred's offers of assistance, and was soon ready to leave the room in search of the meal to which he was accustomed.

All Chad was in a stir of expectation. It was known throughout the house that a great search was to be instituted after the missing priest, who had, as it were, disappeared into thin air.

Everybody knew that he had been within the precincts of Chad upon the previous day. Some amongst the few servants who had been left behind to take care of the house had seen him moving quietly about from the chantry to the courtyard and back. It was now well known that spies were lurking in the forest round Chad with a view of intercepting any attempt at flight, and it was plain they had seen nothing of him. Therefore, unless he had escaped their vigilance by cunning and artifice, he must still be somewhere within the precincts of the house; and on the whole this appeared the most probable theory. In a place like Chad, where there were all manner of outbuildings, sheds, and lofts; to say nothing of all the corners and hiding places within the house itself, it would be very tempting to take refuge in one of these nooks and crannies, and to trust to the chance of concealment rather than run the gauntlet of meeting foes in the open.

Brothers from the monasteries, to say nothing of hunted heretics, had the reputation of being marvellous cunning in their methods. It was like enough that Brother Emmanuel had long been planning some such concealment for himself, and had made his plans cleverly and astutely. Such was the prevailing opinion at Chad, and scarcely a member of the household but hoped and trusted his hiding place would not be detected, even though they did not know how seriously the fortunes of their master might be affected were the monk to be found hidden in his house.

They all loved Brother Emmanuel for his own sake, and hated the Lord of Mortimer. And it was well known that that haughty baron was making common cause with the prior of Chadwater in this matter, doubtless in the hope of disgracing Sir Oliver in the eyes of the ecclesiastical powers.

So a general feeling of excitement and uncertainty prevailed during the early hours of the morning. Sir Oliver and his wife strove to appear calm and tranquil, but inwardly they were consumed by anxiety. They felt something very much approaching certainty that their own sons knew what had befallen the monk—probably his very hiding-place; and they were by no means certain that it might not be within the very precincts of Chad itself. The knight's generosity and love of justice were sufficiently stirred to make him willing to run some risk in the cause; he had resolved to ask no question, and to let matters take their own course. But he could not help feeling a tremor run through him as he heard the winding of the horn which bespoke the presence of the visitors at his gate, and he went forth to meet them with a sinking heart, albeit his mien was calm and untroubled and his bearing dignified and assured.

The prior and the Lord of Mortimer headed the train, and behind followed a goodly retinue of men wearing the livery of the baron, to say nothing of the lay brothers and the cowled monks, who were skilful in matters pertaining to search, and who had come to assist in the examination of the whole of the great house.

Upon the face of Lord Mortimer and upon that of his son-in-law there was an ill-disguised look of vindictive triumph. It was easy to see that they were fully assured of the presence of the fugitive within these walls, and that they did not mean to leave until he had been dragged forth from his hiding place.

The guests of the better quality were respectfully conducted into the great hall, and refreshments were placed before them. Sir Oliver put his whole house and possessions into the hands of the prior, who was invited to make any kind of investigation and examination that he thought necessary. The knight repeated what he had said the previous day as to his entire ignorance where the monk was hiding, and whether he was hiding at all. But no obstacle of any kind would be placed by him against the most stringent search, and he would either accompany the searchers or remain passive where he was, exactly as the reverend father judged best.

This statement was well received by the prior, who turned to the Lord of Mortimer and suggested that in the first place his armed troopers, who were well used to this kind of work, should make a strict search through all the outbuildings of whatever kind, posting his men wherever he thought needful, and taking any steps such as the smoking of chimneys and kindred methods that might in any wise be likely to dislodge the fugitive. Meantime the rest of the party would remain where they were, and the house should only be searched if it was made clear that the monk was not hiding without.

Lord Mortimer retired to give his orders, and the rest of the company remained in the hall. The boys would better have liked the house searched first, that their anxiety might be the sooner relieved. It was keeping them on tenterhooks all this time, as they knew well that no result could accrue from any search of the outer yards or buildings, and it was hard to wait all that time in uncertainty and suspense.

But they heard the order given without making any sign. It was well for them at this crisis that they had been trained in habits of self control and reserve. No one, to look at the three boys, would have guessed them to be greatly interested in the proceedings. They remained standing in the background, with an air of quiet respect and submission appropriate to the young in presence of their spiritual superiors. The prior, as his keen eye travelled over the faces in the hall, never suspected for a moment that those three quiet lads knew aught of this matter. But, pleased by their air and bearing, he called them to him and asked them some questions, to assure himself that they had been properly taught by the recalcitrant monk whom now he had resolved to find and to punish for his rebellion and temerity.

The boys replied with such ready intelligence and so much actual learning that he could not but be pleased with them. Edred, in particular, showed such readiness and aptitude that the prior was surprised, and laying a kindly hand upon the boy's head, asked him how soon they would be welcoming him at Chadwater.

The youth looked up with grave, thoughtful eyes.

"I know not that, my father. I have had thoughts of the religious life; but—"

"Well, boy, what is the 'but'?" asked the prior with a smile, but a keen flash of the eye which did not pass unheeded.

Edred saw the flash, and was put at once upon his guard. This was not Brother Emmanuel, to whom he could open his whole soul and ask counsel and advice.

"I misdoubt me at times if I be fit for the life," he answered. "There is too much of the world in my heart, I fear me. I used to think I was fit to be a monk, but I am the less sure now."

"Well, well, I would fain have a promising lad like thee beneath my care; but there is time to talk of that later.

"Well, my Lord of Mortimer, how goes the search? Is all in train for it?"

"Ay, reverend father; and I trow if the miscreant be in hiding anywhere without the house, he will shortly be brought before us. I am no novice in this manner of work, and I have laid my plans that he will scarce escape us. If that fail, we must try the house itself. It will go hard if we find him not somewhere. We have full information that he has not left the place;" and here he flashed an insolent look of triumph at Sir Oliver, who took not the smallest notice either of the speech or the look.

Edred retired to his former place beside his brothers, and the party awaited the result of the search with what patience they might. Now and then shouts and calls broke the stillness, and faces would flush with excitement at the sound; but the shouts always died away again into silence, and at last there came a trooper into the hall to salute the company and report that there was no one hidden in any of the places without. Not a rat or a mouse could have failed to be turned out after the stringent search to which the premises had been subjected.

The Lord of Mortimer then rose and said:

"Keep the men posted as I have given orders. Let none stir from his vantage ground. And be thou there to see that the closest watch is kept. We go in person to search the house, and if any living thing seeks to make escape by door or window, it will be thine office and that of thy men to seize and hold him."

"We will not fail, my lord," said the man, who again saluted and withdrew.

Then the prior rose and called his monks about him, whilst the Lord of Mortimer did the like with his followers.

"Sir Oliver," said the prior, "I would have spared you this unwelcome formality had it been possible, but my duty must be done. I will ask you to be our conductor throughout the house, and will crave permission to post my servants hither and thither about the passages as seems to me best, and to take such steps as shall appear needful for proving to the satisfaction of all that this traitor monk is not hidden within your walls."

Sir Oliver bent his head.

"Take what steps you will, reverend father; I and mine are at your disposal. Whatever means you desire to use, do so without hesitation. Shall my people arm themselves with tools to remove panelling or flooring? You have but to command them; they shall instantly obey."

The Lord of Mortimer again looked taken aback for a moment. There was a confidence in Sir Oliver's manner that did not appear to be assumed. He would have preferred another aspect in his foe.

"We have brought all things needful for a rigorous search," answered the prior. "We hope and trust nothing will be needed. Is it true that there are secret hiding places in the house, my son? It would be well, perhaps, to visit any such first."

"There be two," answered Sir Oliver quietly, though his heart beat rather fast. What if Brother Emmanuel had learned the secret of either of those places, and had sought refuge in one? True, it would have been worse than useless to deny their existence. Many in the household knew of them and how they might be entered.

Probably the prior or some of his monks had the trick of those chambers by heart. Chad had been through many vicissitudes, and the monks had often been its guests. Secrets once known to them were never allowed to be lost. It would have been idle to seek to put the searchers off the scent. He led the way to the places where the masked doors lay—one was much after the pattern of that in the boys' chamber—and in each case himself opened the door, letting his guests go in to examine for themselves.

Those were terrible moments for him; but the hearts of the boys did not palpitate. Each time the search party came forth with looks of baffled disappointment. Each time the Lord of Mortimer's face was dark and gloomy. He had reckoned somewhat confidently on finding the fugitive in one of these known hiding places. He had hoped Sir Oliver would profess an ignorance of at least one of the two. His face was fierce and vindictive as the second was "drawn blank."

But the excitement of the boys was slowly augmenting as the party moved higher and higher in the house, leaving scouts posted in various places, and, as it were, spreading a cleverly-constructed net all through Chad, which it would be impossible for any person being hunted from spot to spot finally to escape.

The prior's idea now was that the monk might be gliding before them from place to place, confident that his knowledge of the intricacies of the house would give him the chance of evading them at the last. It was a desperate game, to be sure, but one that had been successfully tried by others on more than one occasion. He therefore posted his men with great skill and acumen; and knowing the house accurately, was able to feel secure that if this were the game being played, the prey would sooner or later be his.

Lord Mortimer, on the other hand, gave his attention to the panelled walls, the carved chimney pieces, the flooring of the old rooms; and many were the blows struck here and there by his orders, and great was the damage done to certain panelled rooms, in the hopes of coming upon some masked door or passage.

It was this energy on his part that caused such anxiety to the boys. Suppose he were to attack the carving which really concealed the masked door in their room? Might not his eagle eye light upon that, too, and might not all be discovered? The boys felt almost sick with apprehension as they approached the door of their room, and Edred's whole heart went up in a voiceless prayer that no discovery might be made.

Nothing in the aspect of the room attracted comment. All looked matter of fact and innocent enough, and the prior was growing something weary with the unavailing search. The usual thumping on the walls was commenced; but even the carved mantel pillars were so solid that no hollow sound was given forth when they were struck. The prior turned away.

"There is naught here, methinks, my Lord of Mortimer."

"Wait one moment," replied the baron. "This carving be something deep and ponderous. I always suspect traps when I see such pains bestowed upon it. Let me examine a while further. These grapes look to me as if they had been fingered something often. Let me examine further."

Edred's heart was in his mouth. It was all he could do to restrain himself from seeking to attract the prior's attention in another direction; but his sound sense told him that this sudden interruption would be suspicious. Julian nipped him by the arm, as those strong fingers went travelling over the carved work with dire intent. Both started when the Lord of Mortimer exclaimed:

"Take away yon chest; it encumbers me."

The servants did his bidding in a moment; and then a sudden change came over his face. The eager look died away. He remained awhile looking down at the floor, which was covered with dust and flue, as was also the carving which had been concealed behind the chest. The prior looked down too, and shrugged his shoulders.

"That tells a tale, my lord. Naught has been disturbed here for many a long day. Let us pursue our search elsewhere. No fugitive could have passed by that spot since yesterday, when Brother Emmanuel was last seen."

The baron could not but assent. He looked once again at the carving, but he had had no real reason to suspect aught, and he turned away to go elsewhere. Another grip of the arm showed Edred how Julian's feelings had been stirred; but the lads did not even look at each other as they moved on behind the company, and they now hardly heard or heeded what passed during the remaining hour of that long search.

For them the crisis had passed when they turned from the room where the secret lay. If not discovered at that awful moment when Lord Mortimer's hand was actually upon the bunch of grapes beneath which lay the spring, they surely need not fear any other manoeuvre on his part.

And at last the long search ended. Even the Lord of Mortimer had to own himself beaten. Reluctantly and with scowling brow he followed the prior back to the long banqueting hall, where the tables had already been laid with savoury viands. He had been worsted where he had been most confident of success, and he was as furious as a bear robbed of her whelps.