"Have no fear--none shall touch you," answered Pabo, addressing the prelate. He disdained even to look at the interpreter. "If any harm come to my men, you shall be held accountable. They are King Henry's men; he lent them to me. He sent them to guard my sacred person." "And mine," said Cadell. "Our father in God cannot make himself understood without me." "You are in no danger," said Pabo. Then the Archpriest stepped forward, went to the belfry, and disengaged the rope from the hand of him who was jangling the bell. With a loud, deep, sonorous voice, he called in their native tongue to his tribesmen to be silent, to cease from aggression, and to explain the cause of the tumult. He was obeyed immediately. All noise ceased, save that caused by the Normans, who continued to thunder menaces. "Silence them also," said Pabo to the bishop. "I--I have lost my voice," said the frightened prelate. At the same moment the crowd parted, and a band of sturdy peasants, carrying clubs, and one armed with a coulter, came forward, drawing with them Rogier, the bishop's brother, and a young and beautiful woman with disheveled hair and torn garments. Her wrists had been bound behind her back, but one of the men who drew her along with a great knife cut the thongs, and she shook the fragments from her and extended her freed arms to the priest. "Pabo!" "Morwen!" he exclaimed, recoiling in dismay. "What is the meaning of this?" demanded the bishop. "Unhand my brother, ye saucy curs!" But, though his meaning might be guessed by those who gripped Rogier, they could not understand his words. "What is the cause of this?" asked Bernard, addressing the Norman. "Rogier, how comes this about?" The Norman was spluttering with rage, and writhing in vain endeavor to extricate himself from the men who held him. It was apparent to Bernard that the right arm of the man had received some injury, as he was powerless to employ it against his captors. The rest of the soldiery were hemmed in and unable to go to his assistance. "Curse the hounds!" he yelled. "They have struck me over the shoulder with their bludgeons, or by the soul of Rollo I would have sent some of them to hell! What are my men about that they do not attempt to release me?" he shouted. But through the ring of stout weapons--a quadruple living hedge--his followers were unable to pass; moreover, all considered their own safety to consist in keeping together. "What has caused this uproar?" asked the bishop. "Did they attack you without provocation?" "By the soul of the conqueror!" roared Rogier. "Can not a man look at and kiss a pretty woman without these swine resenting it? Have not I a right to carry her off if it please me to grace her with my favor? Must these hogs interfere?" "Brother, you have been indiscreet!"