his cold chapel and made his supplications, but he
was not too engrossed to hear the drawbridge chains and to pick up his
ears to the clatter of the grey horse.

So, having been communicated, he made short shift of what remained to
be done, and got to his feet.

The Abbot, whose offices were finished, had also heard the drawbridge
chains and let him go.

When Philip saw Clotilde he frowned and then smiled. He had sons, but no
daughter, and he would have set her on his shoulder. But she drew away
haughtily.

So Philip sat in a chair and watched her with a curious smile playing
about his lips. Surely it were enough to make him smile, that he should
play host to the wife and daughter of his cousin Charles.

Because of that, and of the thing that he had prayed for, and with a
twinkle in his eyes, Black Philip alternately watched the child, and
from a window the plain which was prepared against his cousin. And, as
he had expected, at ten o'clock in the morning came Charles and six
men-at-arms, riding like demons, and jerked up their horses at the edge
of the moat.

Philip, still with the smile under his black beard, went out to greet
them.

"Well met, cousin," he called; "you ride fast and early."

Charles eyed him with feverish eyes.

"Truce of God," he said, sulkily, from across the moat. And then: "We
seek a runaway, the child Clotilde."

"I shall make inquiry," said Philip, veiling the twinkle under his heavy
brow. "In such a season many come and go."

But in his eyes Charles read the truth, and breathed with freer breath.

They lowered the drawbridge again with a great creaking of windlass and
chain, and Charles with his head up rode across. But his men-at-arms
stood their horses squarely on the bridge so that it could not be
raised, and Philip smiled into his beard.

Charles dismounted stiffly. He had been a night in the saddle and his
horse staggered with fatigue. In Philip's courtyard, as in his own, were
piled high the Christmas tithes.

"A good year," said Philip agreeably, and indicated the dues. "Peaceful
times, eh, cousin?"

But Charles only turned to see that his men kept the drawbridge open,
and followed him into the house. Once inside, however, he turned on
Philip fiercely.

"I am not here of my own desire. It appears that both my wife and child
find sanctuary with you."

"Tut," said Philip, good-naturedly, "it is the Christmas season, man,
and a Sunday. We will not quarrel as to the wh