The Duke of Norfolk bowed his thanks, and they quitted the hall. From the castle, Philip rode with his train to the Hospital of Saint Croix, with the beautiful and secluded situation of which he had been much struck as he approached Winchester. Passing through the ancient gateway, he dismounted in the court, where were drawn up the brotherhood in their long dark gowns, adorned with a silver cross—vestments and badges still retained by the fraternity. After examining the Hundred Men’s Hall, and noting the statue of Cardinal Beaufort in a niche in the upper part of the chamber, Philip proceeded to the venerable church, where he heard mass. Well pleased with his visit, he caused a piece of gold to be given to each of the brethren. On quitting Saint Croix, the Prince did not return at once to Winchester, but crossing the valley, and fording the Itchen at a place pointed out to him by Osbert Clinton, who acted as his guide, he rode up Saint Catherine’s Hill. Good Father Jerome, who had watched the train ascending the mount, advanced to meet him. Courteously saluting the old priest, Philip put several questions to him respecting the chapel. “Will it please your Highness to alight and view the reliques?” said Father Jerome. Readily assenting, Philip dismounted, Osbert holding his bridle the while. The Prince then entered the chapel with Father Jerome, leaving all his suite outside to contemplate the magnificent prospect of the city. His first act was to prostrate himself before the altar, and in this pious posture he remained for several minutes, fervently occupied in prayer. “Apparently he is devout,” thought Father Jerome, as he stood behind him, with his hands meekly folded upon his breast. “And yet unholy passions rule his heart.” When Philip had concluded his devotions, Father Jerome unlocked a casket, and exhibited the various saintly reliques it contained, which the Prince regarded with due reverence. The old priest next displayed the wonderful ploughshare which had proved harmless to Queen Emma, and related the legend connected with it. While looking about the chapel, Philip noticed upon the credence-table near the altar a little tablet of gold, with an agate on either side, garnished with rubies, and having a large pearl pendant. “How came this trinket here, father?” he inquired, fixing a stedfast look on the old priest. “It was my gift to a damsel who preserved my life.” “I know it, Highness,” replied Father Jerome. “But the maiden felt she could not keep the tablet, and hath left it as an offering to Saint Catherine’s shrine. In my humble mind she has done well.” “Has she confessed to you, father?” demanded Philip. “I am not bound to answer that question, even to your Highness,” replied Father Jerome. “Nevertheless, I will answer it. She has confessed.” “Then you know all?” “All, Highness. And I pity her from my soul.” “And you blame me?” “I said not so, Highness,” replied the priest, somewhat evasively.