"Pagan! Mass is not at this hour, nor would they ring the great bell in that way." "Then the prior has given up his vows, and is about to wed the Lady Abbess of Denton, and the monks are ringing for joy that one of them should at length prove himself a man." A chuckle went through the boat at this none too excellent a joke. "Like enough," Huber said, "but whatever it may mean we must keep our tryst with Heraud. It was to be a church's length from the main landing where the monks keep their boats. A church's length to the left." "It will not be easy to find, the night is very thick. We must go very slow." "Yes," said Huber "we must go with great care. Come forward! Are you ready? Allery!" The boat glided slowly on again towards the direction of the island. Presently a deeper blackness loomed up in front of them, and they saw that they were close to land. The smell of land, of herbage and flowers, came to them, and hot as it had been upon the lake, it seemed hotter now that they were come to shore. As the nose of the boat brushed the outgrowing reeds, hissing at the contact, the bell on the hill above stopped suddenly. A great silence enveloped them as they waited. Huber gave a long, low whistle, but there was no answer. He repeated it at intervals of about a minute. They were getting restive, wondering what might have happened, when Huber changed his tactics. He began to whistle very softly and sweetly--the scamp had a pipe like any bird--the lilt of a love-song. It was a plaintive air which rose and fell delicately in the night. Most of them knew it, for it was a popular song among the soldiers of that day, and had been made by a strolling minstrel one evening in the Picard camp at Gournay, and thence spread all over Northern Europe by the mercenaries. The men-at-arms began to nod to its rhythm and beat quiet time to it. Then one fellow began to whistle a bass under his breath, and another and another took up the air very quietly, till the boat was like a cage of fairy singing birds. They were so amused by their occupation, and, indeed, they were producing a very pretty concert, that they quite forgot their purpose for the moment, and abandoned themselves one and all to the music. It recalled many merry memories of Tilliers and Falaise, of Mortain and Arques, and of the orchards of their Norman home. They were beginning the whole thing all over again--so much did it please them--when they became aware of another and more distant augmentation to their concert. They stopped, and the silvery whistle from the bank still shivered out a note or two before it stopped. In a moment more they heard splashing, and a dark figure pushed aside the reeds and waded out to them. "It is all safe," said the new-comer. "The murderer is here sure enough. He does not know who I am, and I am in a hut close to his." "Bon," said Huber, "I am glad to see you. Lord Fulke will be very pleased. We feared something was wrong when we heard the bell."