In the meanwhile, Sir Philip had raised up the poor girl; and Mary Markham was soothing her tenderly, as Ella, finding herself safe, gave way to the tears which her strong resolution had repressed in the actual moment of difficulty and danger. "Come, come, do not weep, poor thing," said the knight, laying his large, bony hand upon her shoulder. "We will take care of you. Who is it that has done this?" "A bad man, called Simeon of Roydon," replied Ella Brune, wiping away the tears. "We know him," said Mary Markham, in a kindly tone; "and do not love him, my poor girl." "And I have cause to love him less, noble lady," replied Ella Brune, waving her head mournfully. "'Tis but two nights ago he killed the last friend I had; and now he would have wronged me shamefully." "Killed him!" exclaimed Mary; "what! murdered him?" "'Twas the same as murder," replied the girl; "he rode him down in a mad frolic--a poor blind man. He is not yet in his grave." "Come, come--be comforted," said Sir Philip. "Let us hear how all this chanced." "We will be your friends, poor girl," added Mary Markham; and then, turning to the old knight, she asked, in a low tone, "can we not take her home with us?" Sir Philip gazed at the minstrel's girl from head to foot, and then shrugged his shoulders slightly, with a significant look, as he remarked her somewhat singular dress. "Nay, nay," said Mary Markham, in the same low tone; "do not let that stop you, noble friend. There may be some good amongst even them." "Well, be it as you will, Mary," answered the old knight; "she must be better than she looks, to do as she has done. Come, poor thing--you shall go home with us, and there tell us more. Wait till I have finished the purchase of this harness, and we will go along back to Westminster; though how to take you through the streets in that guise, I do not well know." "Get a boat, sir, at a landing by the Temple," said Launcelot Plasse, "and send the horses by land." "A good thought," replied the knight; and thus it was arranged, the whole party returning to the armourer's shop, and thence, after the bargain was made, and all directions were given, proceeding to the water-side, where a boat was soon procured, which bore them speedily to the landing-place at Westminster. CHAPTER XV. THE PILGRIM. One morning, while the events which I have lately detailed were passing in the city of London, a man in a long brown gown, with a staff in his hand, a cross upon his shoulder, and a cockle-shell in his hat, walked slowly, and apparently wearily, into the little village of Abbot's Ann, and sat himself down on a stone bench before the reeve's door.