"The doctor is with the Sub-Prior, sir," he said. "He gave orders that you were to be brought to him as soon as you arrived, Mr. Torridon."

Ralph followed him into the guest-house, and up the stairs up which Chris had come at his first arrival, and was shown into the parlour.

There was a sound of voices as they approached the door, and as Ralph entered he saw at once that Dr. Layton was busy at his work.

"Come in, sir," he cried cheerfully from behind the table at which he sat. "Here is desperate work for you and me. No less than rank treason, Mr. Torridon."

A monk was standing before the table, who turned nervously as Ralph came in; he was a middle-aged man, grey-haired and brown-faced like a foreigner, but his eyes were full of terror now, and his lips trembling piteously.

Ralph greeted Dr. Layton shortly, and sat down beside him.

"Now, sir," went on the other, "your only hope is to submit yourself to the King's clemency. You have confessed yourself to treason in your preaching, and even if you did not, it would not signify, for I have the accusation from the young man at Farley in my bag. You tell me you did not know it was treason; but are you ready, sir, to tell the King's Grace that?"

The monk's eyes glanced from one to the other anxiously. Ralph could see that he was desperately afraid.

"Tell me that, sir," cried the doctor again, rapping the table with his open hand.

"I--I--what shall I do, sir?" stammered the monk.

"You must throw yourself on the King's mercy, reverend father. And as a beginning you must throw yourself on mine and Mr. Torridon's here. Now, listen to this."

Dr. Layton lifted one of the papers that lay before him and rend it aloud, looking severely at the monk over the top of it between the sentences. It was in the form of a confession, and declared that on such a date in the Priory Church of St Pancras at Lewes the undersigned had preached treason, although ignorant that it was so, in the presence of the Prior and community; and that the Prior, although he knew what was to be said, and had heard the sermon in question, had neither forbidden it beforehand nor denounced it afterwards, and that the undersigned entreated the King's clemency for the fault and submitted himself entirely to his Grace's judgment.

"I--I dare not accuse my superior," stammered the monk.

Dr. Layton glared at him, laying the paper down.

"The question is," he cried, "which would you sooner offend--your Prior, who will be prior no longer presently, or the King's Grace, who will remain the King's Grace for many years yet, by the favour of G.o.d, and who has moreover supreme rights of life and death. That is your choice, reverend father."--He lifted the paper by the corners.--"You have only to say the word, sir, and I tear up this paper, and write my own report of the matter."

The monk again glanced helplessly at the two men. Ralph had a touch of contentment at the thought that this was Christopher's superior, ranged like a naughty boy at the table, and looked at him coldly. Dr. Layton made a swift gesture as if to tear the paper, and the Sub-Prior threw out his hands.

"I will sign it, sir," he said, "I will sign it."

When the monk had left the room, leaving his signed confession behind him, Dr. Layton turned beaming to Ralph.

"Thank G.o.d!" he said piously. "I do not know what we should have done if he had refused; but now we hold him and his prior too. How have you fared, Mr. Torridon?"

Ralph told him a little of his experiences since his last report, of a nunnery where all but three had been either dismissed or released; of a monastery where he had actually caught a drunken cellarer unconscious by a barrel, and of another where he had reason to fear even worse crimes.

"Write it all down, Mr. Torridon," cried the priest, "and do not spare the adjectives. I have some fine tales for you myself. But we must despatch this place first. We shall have grand sport in the chapter-house to-morrow. This prior is a poor timid fellow, and we can do what we will with him. Concealed treason is a sharp sword to threaten him with."

Ralph remarked presently that he had a brother a monk here.

"But you can do what you like to him," he said. "I have no love for him.

He is an insolent fellow."

Dr. Layton smiled pleasantly.

"We will see what can be done," he said.

Ralph slept that night in the guest-house, in the same room that Chris had occupied on his first coming. He awoke once at the sound of the great bell from the tower calling the monks to the night-office, and smiled at the fantastic folly of it all. His work during the last month had erased the last remnants of superst.i.tious fear, and to him now more than ever the Religious Houses were but noisy rookeries, clamant with bells and chanting, and foul with the refuse of idleness. The sooner they were silenced and purged the better.

He did not trouble to go to ma.s.s in the morning, but lay awake in the white-washed room, hearing footsteps and voices below, and watching the morning light brighten on the wall. He found himself wondering once or twice what Chris was doing, and how he felt; he did not rise till one of his men looked in to tell him that Dr. Layton would be ready for him in half-an-hour, if he pleased.

The chapter-house was a strange sight as he entered it from the cloister. It was a high oblong chamber some fifty feet long, with arched roof like a chapel, and a paved floor. On a dozen stones or so were cut inscriptions recording the presence of bodies entombed below, among them those of Earl William de Warenne and Gundrada, his wife, founders of the priory five centuries ago. Ralph caught sight of the names as he strode through the silent monks at the door and entered the chamber, talking loudly with his fellow-Visitor. The tall vaulted room looked bare and severe; the seats ran round it, raised on a step, and before the Prior's chair beneath the crucifix stood a large table covered with papers.

Beneath it, and emerging on to the floor lay a great heap of vestments and precious things which Dr. Layton had ordered to be piled there for his inspection, and on the table itself for greater dignity burned two tapers in ma.s.sive silver candlesticks.

"Sit here, Mr. Torridon," said the priest, himself taking the Prior's chair, "we represent the supreme head of the Church of England now, you must remember."

And he smiled at the other with a solemn joy.

He glanced over his papers, settled himself judicially, and then signed to one of his men to call the monks in. His two secretaries seated themselves at either end of the table that stood before their master.

Then the two lines began to file in, in reverse order, as the doctor had commanded; black silent figures with bowed heads buried in their hoods, and their hands invisible in the great sleeves of their cowls.

Ralph ran his eyes over them; there were men of all ages there, old wrinkled faces, and smooth ones; but it was not until they were all standing in their places that he recognised Chris.

There stood the young man, at a stall near the door, his eyes bent down, and his face deadly pale, his figure thin and rigid against the pale oak panelling that rose up some eight feet from the floor. Ralph's heart quickened with triumph. Ah! it was good to be here as judge, with that brother of his as culprit!

The Prior and Sub-prior, whose places were occupied, stood together in the centre of the room, as the doctor had ordered. It was their case that was to come first.

There was an impressive silence; the two Visitors sat motionless, looking severely round them; the secretaries had their clean paper before them, and their pens, ready dipped, poised in their fingers.

Then Dr. Layton began.

It was an inexpressibly painful task, he said, that he had before him; the monks were not to think that he gloried in it, or loved to find fault and impose punishments; and, in fact, nothing but the knowledge that he was there as the representative of the supreme authority in Church and State could have supplied to him the fort.i.tude necessary for the performance of so sad a task.

Ralph marvelled at him as he listened. There was a solemn sound in the man's face and voice, and dignity in his few and impressive gestures. It could hardly be believed that he was not in earnest; and yet Ralph remembered too the relish with which the man had dispersed his foul tales the evening before, and the cackling laughter with which their recital was accompanied. But it was all very wholesome for Chris, he thought.

"And now," said Dr. Layton, "I must lay before you this grievous matter.

It is one of whose end I dare not think, if it should come before the King's Grace; and yet so it must come. It is no less a matter than treason."

His voice rang out with a melancholy triumph, and Ralph, looking at the two monks who stood in the centre of the room, saw that they were both as white as paper. The lips of the Prior were moving in a kind of agonised entreaty, and his eyes rolled round.

"You, sir," cried the doctor, glaring at the Sub-Prior, who dropped his beseeching eyes at the fierce look, "you, sir, have committed the crime--in ignorance, you tell me--but at least the crime of preaching in this priory-church in the presence of his Grace's faithful subjects a sermon attacking the King's most certain prerogatives. I can make perhaps allowances for this--though I do not know whether his Grace will do so--but I can make allowances for one so foolish as yourself carried away by the drunkenness of words; but I can make none--none--" he shouted, crashing his hand upon the table, "none for your superior who stands beside you, and who forebore either to protest at the treason at the time or to rebuke it afterwards."

The Prior's hands rose and clasped themselves convulsively, but he made no answer.

Dr. Layton proceeded to read out the confession that he had wrung from the monk the night before, down to the signature; then he called upon him to come up.

"Is this your name, sir?" he asked slowly.

The Sub-Prior took the paper in his trembling hands.

"It is sir," he said.