Prior Matthew, Brother Richard silenced, had present eyes for the Black Friar there to one side, standing grimly for Saint Leofric. “Now and here!” said within the Westforest chess player. Matthew spoke in his dry, reasonable voice. “Ride you, too, with us, Friar Martin! You shall have mule. What! Saint Leofric and Saint Willebrod, be sure they ride together! Shall we not make England and Christendom ring for that all this corner of earth, this side river, that side river, Silver Cross and Saint Leofric alike are blessed? Bridge over river shall be to you and be to us, and I see it built thick and high with booths and rooms for pilgrims! The Princess of Spain goes to-day to Saint Leofric’s tomb, to-morrow to Holy Well! To-day the Dauphin heareth mass in Silver Cross, to-morrow goeth in procession around Saint Leofric his church! Both ways he passeth through Middle Forest. Common good--common good! What else is worth anything in this life? The more massive the bruit, the broader, higher, shooteth the fame of all!” It was undeniable! Black Friar thought somewhat surlily, “If I go I can at least take account of all to Prior Hugh. And there is something in ‘If you can’t increase apart, increase together’!” Rested that fanatic, Father Edmund the Preacher. Better always have Father Edmund preach for you, not against you! He could any time whip calm sea into storm. The chess player considered him, to whom just now Morgen Fay, the harlot, stood for all harlotry, whether of brain or heart. When all heinousness was believed of Morgen Fay, then would the countryside be roused at last, then would every man, woman and child become huntsman! Father Edmund meant to continue to believe Brother Richard’s story. Why not? She was capable of it. Certain abbeys of this later time were capable. Father Edmund was one to cry under the Pope’s great window, “Reform! Reform!” Prior Matthew saw the weather thickening. Presently from that quarter lightning flash and thunder clap! “Boldness my wisdom!” he breathed.