By the eleventh hour we entered again the wood where we had transformed ourselves to palmers; and ’twas the work of but a moment to change us back to knights and men-at-arms. By midnight we were safely in the town and had our prisoner properly bestowed. Then Cedric and I parted for the night,—I to go to my bed, and he, as the morrow showed, to labor by candle-light all through the hours of darkness. At nine the next morning I was by appointment at Cedric’s lodging, and found that he had just despatched a messenger to the true Abbot of Moberley with an urgent request that he come at once since most important news awaited him from the Abbey itself. This message speedily accomplished its object, and the Abbot, standing not on ceremony, came hurrying to the lodgings. [Illustration: _WITH A MIGHTY SHOUT, WE RODE DOWN UPON THE BRIDGE, TRUSTING ALL TO THE DARKNESS AND THE FURY OF OUR ATTACK_] We greeted him most courteously, and, when our guest was duly and comfortably seated, Cedric stated that riders had come in from Moberley the night before with the news of a most surprising happening. A band of a score or more of pilgrims returning from the Holy Land had entered the Abbey, and, doubtless being wroth at William De Bellair because he had forsworn himself by abandoning his vow to go an Crusade for the recovery of the Holy Sepulcher, had seized and bound him, and, overawing the monastery with weapons, had carried him away by force. The Abbot listened to this tale of violence with sparkling eyes and with no hint of censure for those who had so roughly laid hands upon a cleric dignitary. When it was finished, indeed, he could scarce restrain his glee. Rising and smiting the table roundly with his hand, he cried: “Ha! Well served! Well served indeed, for a creature that calls himself monk and abbot, forsooth, when profit is that way to be gained but who forgets all monkish obligations when a layman’s way of living better serves him! The palmers are right indeed, and I devoutly hope they may keep him for aye as far from Moberley Abbey as his conduct hath ever been from that of a true churchman.” Cedric then resumed, in slow and measured voice: “It so happens, Reverend Abbot, that I have several friends among these palmers, and to some extent they rely on me for advice in this matter.” “Ah! Is it so indeed?” questioned the Abbot, eagerly. “Then I trust that thou, as a true friend of the Church and her rightful servitors, hast given advice to hold this fellow they have taken—at least till the King be brought to terms and our brotherhoods be free again to fill their offices without dictation.” Cedric slowly shook his head. “Nay, my advice has not yet been given. ’Twill require some further meditation to be sure that ’tis wisely bestowed. But, Reverend Abbot, if thou wilt but climb the stair that I shall show thee here and apply thine eye to a hole in the wall at the right, near the top, I warrant thee a sight well worth thy pains.”