e too was of
the Benedictine order; and his face, shrouded in its cowl, was
turned towards the pair with a very peculiar expression upon it. A
sinister smile was in the narrow beady eyes; the features, which
were coarse and somewhat bloated from luxurious living, were set in
a look of ill-concealed malice; and the salutation addressed to the
pair when he saw himself perceived had in it something of an
incongruous sound.

"Pax vobiscum!" said the newcomer, lifting his hand as if to impart
a blessing.

Edred instinctively bent the knee, but Brother Emmanuel's face did
not move a muscle.

"Hast thou come with a message for me from the reverend father?" he
asked quietly.

"Nay, not for thee. My message was to Sir Oliver; but I will report
to the father how excellently I found thee employed--training thy
pupils in all godliness and honesty, and in that hatred of heresy
which it behoves all true sons of the Church to cherish."

There was a spiteful gleam in the man's eyes as he spoke these
words that made Edred shiver; but the calm regard of the younger
monk did not waver.

"I have taught him nothing but what I have heard our good Dean of
St. Paul's speak before princes and prelates in the pulpit,"
answered Brother Emmanuel, not pretending to misunderstand the
innuendo conveyed. "Methinks it would profit many of our brothers
in country places to hear what is being thought and taught in
Oxford and London, in all the great centres of the country. The
reverend father knows well what I hold and what I teach."

So clear and steadfast was the light in the young monk's eyes, that
the regard of the other fell before it. He made a gesture, as if to
repudiate the defence as a thing quite superfluous.

"The piety and orthodoxy of Brother Emmanuel are known far and
wide," he answered, in a tone that was half cringing, half
spiteful; "no truer son of the Church than he lives in all the
land."

And then with another salutation he turned and glided away in the
lengthening shadows, whilst Edred turned to Brother Emmanuel with
rather a scared face, and asked:

"Dost think he heard what we were saying?"

"Belike he caught a phrase or two," was the answer, spoken gravely
but quite calmly. "I would not speak words of which I am ashamed;
at the same time, it is well in these perilous days to use all
caution, for an enemy can well distort and magnify the words he
hears, till they sound like rank heresy. For myself I have no fear.