“And sooner or later the Norman cross-bows would find you, even as they search out hart or heron,” interposed Brother Basil sternly. “I have warned you, Ruric, that this harrying and plundering must cease. Turn from your wickedness and bear yourselves hereafter as Christian men, and your souls shall live. And because ye were sorely tried, with God's help a way may be opened for you to escape your enemies. “Padraig, you see here a remnant of the men of Ossory, whom the Normans drove into the inhospitable haunts of the forest. The quarry of that evil hunting ran wild like the dogs who followed their masters. As the country grew more settled, these half-bred wolf-hounds found out the sheepfolds, and led their masters to the spoil.” “Even a Norman gives the road to the werewolf,” said the Ossorian with a harsh laugh. “The mercy they deny to man or wolf, they granted us when they thought us neither man nor wolf. Aye, we chased them roaring to the very gates of their castles. Had our own people known the truth some of them might have betrayed us, being very poor. Therefore, we made it easiest for them to keep within doors after nightfall, and in this the priests and monks were of great help. Until you, Father, came to seek us out, believing that God had thought even for a man who had lost his human birthright, none hunted or hindered us. We were the masters, being without hope and without fear of God or man.” “Peace, my son,” said Brother Basil gently. “Padraig, you will go to the Abbot and tell him what you have seen, and ask him of his charity to reveal nothing until I return. I would send him a letter, had I not lost my scrip with my tablets in my encounter with the dogs. Things being as they were, it would not have been safe to send any of Ruric's folk with a message.” “No,--not with Simon watching the gate,” agreed Padraig, cheerfully. “I wonder does he know how many lies he has told in this matter?” “He will have enough to do in accounting to the Abbot for those that are known,” said Brother Basil with a certain edge to his voice that Padraig knew well. “I think, however, that he really believes he has had dealings with the werewolf. There are men who would run, shaking with terror, to pledge their souls to the foul fiend if they saw their profit in it. If he knew the truth he could sell his knowledge easily, and I am not disposed to undeceive him now. Since Ruric gave me his promise to end this evil I have thought much of the matter, and I believe that the Abbot will approve my plan. Let him send men with a hurdle to the foot of the cliff to-morrow. No one need be told more than that I am lame through an accident.” “Some of them will look foolish when they hear that,” Padraig observed with satisfaction. “I grieve for your lameness, Father, and yet I could leap and sing all the way home for joy that it is not as we feared.”