And beside it all, lay the yet more precious documents, rolls of parchments, bundles of letters, deeds of gift, and the violated charters of the Abbey. “We must burn all the letters,” said Father Ambrose; “such were the Abbot’s last instructions.” One by one they burnt them all by the flames of their lanthorn, until nought was left which could possibly serve as matter of accusation against any person. “We may now depart, our duty done; we may borrow sufficient of this coined gold for our present needs, incurred in its preservation; the rest must be left until a sovereign, in communion with the Holy See, sits again upon the throne, when it will help to restore the Abbey, and refurnish it with sacred vessels; how long, O God, until this tyranny be overpast?” They closed the lid, locked it, and left the vault, shutting the iron door; glad were they to exchange its chilling grave-like atmosphere for the fresh air above. They tarried not, but left the Abbey immediately; and at Cuthbert’s request sought the shelter of his foster father’s cottage, where they found the old couple awaiting them, and received the warmest welcome; the curtains were drawn, to hide the light from the neighbours, should any prying eyes be abroad in the darkness; fresh wood was heaped upon the fire, a jug of mulled sack was prepared, and so they drove the cold out of their bodies, and banished the remembrance of the icy vault. And afterwards they sought their warm beds and slept soundly, under the thatched roof of the humble cot, grateful for the comfort which providence afforded them, and happy beyond description to feel that the difficult and dangerous task committed to them, was successfully accomplished. FOOTNOTES [53] See Note L. Demolition of Abbeys. [54] See Preface. [55] It was purchased for Wells Cathedral where it may still be seen. [56] People talk of bloated monks, and imagine them revelling in luxuries. The expression is as just, neither more nor less, as that of “a bloated aristocrat,” used of a gentleman by a Socialist. CHAPTER XIV. _SUUM CUIQUE TRIBUITUR._ Let us leave the snug cot and return to the desolate ruins of the Abbey. Scarcely have the sounds of the footsteps of our two friends died away, when another step comes along the cloisters from the opposite direction, and after the pause of a moment it ascends the stair leading to the Abbot’s chamber. Hush! the new-comer is talking to himself, soliloquizing aloud.