"It is a decision according to equity," said Howel. "I care not. Cadell is not here to protect himself. So long as I have the silver to hand to the bishop, it is indifferent to me whether you bleed your own veins or fleece your pastor. He has been put in a fat pasture by my brother; it is right that he pay for it." "In two days the silver shall be brought here and weighed out." "It is well." Rogier looked at the sun-patch. "That is concluded; now tarry till the sun traverses the line. Then we will broach other business." All sat now in silence, their eyes on the soil, watching the patch of light as it traveled. The men of Caio were aware that the doorway was guarded. But what was threatened they could not conjecture. They had endured intolerable provocations without resistance. They were anxious at heart; their breasts contracted at the dread of fresh exactions. Some looked at Rogier to endeavor to read his purpose in his face; but his, as well as the countenances of his attendants, was expressionless. The sun-round passed on. Then a cloud obscured the light, a fine and fleecy cloud that would be gone shortly. All tarried in silence, breathless, fearing they knew not what--but expecting no good. Then the sun burst forth again, and the circle of fire appeared beyond the line. At once Rogier stood up. "You men of Caio, you have thought to deal with a fool, and to deceive me by your craft. But I know what has been done, and will make you to understand on whom ye have practised your devices. Pabo, the chief and Archpriest, is not dead. It was not he who was consumed in the presbytery. Ye played a stage mystery before our eyes to make us believe that he was dead, and that you were burying him. Pabo is alive and is among you, and you know where he is concealed." The interpreter was interrupted by outcries of, "We know not. If that were not he, we cannot say where he be. We found a man burned to a cinder. Were we in error in supposing him to be our chief? Show us that it was so!" Rogier remained unmoved by the clamor. "Ye are like a parcel of lying, quibbling women," he said. "Pabo is in hiding. Ye are all leagued together to save him. But have him from his lurking-den I will." "We cannot say where he is. There is not one of us who knows." "You will admit that he whom ye pretended to be Pabo was some other?" They looked doubtfully at each other. "We could not tell. The dead man was found in the ruins of the burnt house. We thought it was Pabo." "Ye did not. Ye contrived the device between you." "We will swear that we know not where he is. Bring forth the staff of Cynwyl." "The staff has been stolen. But I will not trust your oaths. Did not the wife of Pabo swear thereon?" Then Rogier laughed. "She was crafty as the rest of you, and deceived us in her oath. Nay, I will trust no oaths. I will place my reliance on something more secure. Hey! bring forward my bassinet!"