"Begone, for a worthless clown! Begone, I say, or the dog shall fly at thee," she shrieked, wild with fury; but Revyngton heeded her not, and seizing a small earthenware pitcher, drained its contents, then turning on his heel, he resumed his fearsome journey. "Haste, Tom, run up to the village and get help!" shouted the woman. "'Tis a gadabout churl, or a riever, or worse," and as the fugitive ran he heard the farm-servant making off towards Botley, while the woman unloosed the dog. Ere Revyngton had gone a bowshot from the cottage the cur was barking and yelping at his heels, showing its teeth, but fearing to close, till at length it drew off, leaving the man to wonder at the churlishness of the hard-faced woman compared with the reception of wayfarers on his father's manor in Devon, where meat and drink were ever at the disposal of even the most humble stranger. At the brow of the hill he saw the tower of the abbey amid the trees a mile or more away, with the beautiful expanse of Southampton Water as a fitting background to the peaceful scene. Yet the fugitive had neither time nor inclination to appreciate the natural surroundings; to him the abbey meant rest and safety, and with renewed hope he sped towards the monastic buildings. Weary and footsore he reached the outer door, his senses reeling with the effects of his exertions. Seeing his plight the porter gave him wine, and sent a lay brother to summon the abbot. As the venerable head of the establishment appeared, Revyngton raised himself with an effort and knelt before him. "Thy blessing, father." "_Benedicite_, my son; what wouldst thou?" "Sanctuary, father." The abbot shook his head sorrowfully. "'Tis not permitted, my son; such blessed privileges belong only to our parent abbey at Beaulieu and to the Hospital of St. Cross. I trow there is no other within the jurisdiction of the Lord Bishop of Winchester. What crime bast thou committed?" "I slew a man in anger, and even now my pursuers are hard at my heels." The abbot turned to a lay brother. "Tell Brother Balthazar to repair to the tower and to quickly bring me word if any soldiers appear." Then to the fugitive he added, "Confess thy sin and seek God's pardon; then perchance the means of thy earthly salvation may be vouchsafed to thee. Follow me, my son." To the venerable abbot Revyngton told the whole of the circumstances of the case; then, having eased his soul, the abbot took care to relieve his body, causing food and drink to be set before him, while a brother washed his cut and travel-worn feet. "Thou must make for the Abbey of the Blessed Mary at Beaulieu, where thou shalt find sanctuary. Knowest thou the way?" "Nay, father," replied the man, sad at heart at the prospect of another journey at the peril of his life.