ded and taken the knave's broad pieces would
have liked to set him ashore again when they were driven back into the
river, especially as he heard that there had been man-slaying about
Blossholme, and that Sir John Foterell lay slaughtered in the forest.
Perhaps this Charles Smith had murdered him. Well, if so, it was no
affair of his, and he could not spare a hand.
Now, when at length the weather had moderated, just as he was hauling
up his anchor, comes the Abbot of Blossholme, on whose will he had been
bidden to wait, with a lean-faced monk and another passenger, said to be
a sick religious, wrapped up in blankets and to all appearance dead.
Why, wondered that astute mariner Goody, should a sick monk wear
harness, for he felt it through the blankets as he helped him up the
ladder, although monk's shoes were stuck upon his feet. And why, as he
saw when the covering slipped aside for a moment, was his crown bound up
with bloody cloths?
Indeed, he ventured to question the Abbot as to this mysterious matter
while his Lordship was paying the passage money in his cabin, only to
get a very sharp answer.
"Were you not commanded to obey me in all things, Captain Goody, and
does obedience lie in prying out my business? Another word and I will
report you to those in Spain who know how to deal with mischief-makers.
If you would see Dunwich again, hold your peace."
"Your pardon, my Lord Abbot," said Goody; "but things go so upon this
ship that I grow afraid. That is an ill voyage upon which one lifts
anchor twice in the same port."
"You will not make them go better, captain, by seeking to nose out my
affairs and those of the Church. Do you desire that I should lay its
curse upon you?"
"Nay, your Reverence, I desire that you should take the curse off,"
answered Goody, who was very superstitious. "Do that and I'll carry
a dozen sick priests to Spain, even though they choose to wear chain
shirts--for penance."
The Abbot smiled, then, lifting his hand, pronounced some words
in Latin, which, as he did not understand them, Goody found very
comforting. As they passed his lips the _Great Yarmouth_ began to move,
for the sailors were hoisting up her anchor.
"As I do not accompany you on this voyage, fare you well," he said. "The
saints go with you, as shall my prayers. Since you will not pass the
Gibraltar Straits, where I hear many infidel pirates lurk, given good
weather your voyage should be safe and easy. Again fare
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