“Oh! yes, my Lord, there is plenty, though I am wondering who will absolve _you_ for your half. Also there are rows of little angels that sometimes won’t let me sleep, and that’s why I can’t stomach ghosts. I’d rather sup in winter on cold small ale and half-cooked pork than face even a still-born ghost.” “Begone!” said the Abbot, in such a voice that she scrambled to her feet and went, unblessed and unabsolved. When the door had closed behind her he went to the window and flung it wide, although the night was foul. “By all the saints!” he muttered, “that beastly murderess poisons the air. Why, I wonder, does God allow such filthy things to live? Cannot she ply her hell-trade less grossly? Oh! Clement Maldonado, how low are you sunk that you must use tools like these, and on such a business. And yet there is no other way. Not for myself, but for the Church, O Lord! The great plot thickens, and all men clamour to me, its head and spring, for money. Give me money, and within six months Yorkshire and the North will be up, and within a year Henry the Anti-Christ will be dead and the Princess Mary fast upon the throne, with the Emperor and the Pope for watchdogs. That stiff-necked Cicely must die and her babe must die, and then I’ll twist the secret of the jewels out of the witch, Emlyn--on the rack, if need be. Those jewels--I’ve seen them so often; why, they would feed an army; but while Cicely or her brat lives where is my claim to them? So, alas! they must die, but oh! the hag is right. Who shall give me absolution for a deed I hate? Not for me, not for me, O my Patron, but for the Church!” and flinging himself to the floor before the holy image of his chosen Saint, he rested his head upon its feet and wept. CHAPTER X MOTHER MEGGES AND THE GHOST