impending arrest
if he ventured in that direction. On the latter of these two he paid
special attention to the cathedral precincts. It was possible that
Alice might be imprisoned in the house of one of the canons or
prebendaries; and if so, there was a faint possibility that she might be
better treated than in the gaol. Everywhere he listened for her voice.
At every window he gazed earnestly, in the hope of seeing her face. He
saw and heard nothing.

As he turned away to go home, on the evening of Saint Matthias', it
struck him that perhaps, if he were to come very early in the morning,
the town would be more silent, and there might be a better likelihood of
detecting the sound of one voice among many. But suppose she were kept
in solitary confinement--how then could he hope to hear it?

Very, very down-hearted was Roger as he rode home. He met two or three
friends, who asked, sympathetically, "No news yet, Master Hall?" and he
felt unable to respond except by a mournful shake of the head.

"Well, be sure! what can have come of the poor soul?" added Emmet
Wilson. And Roger could give no answer.

What could have become of Alice Benden?

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

EUREKA!

In the court where the prebendaries' chambers were situated, within the
Cathedral Close at Canterbury, was an underground vault, known as
Monday's Hole. Here the stocks were kept, but the place was very rarely
used as a prison. A paling, four feet and a half in height, and three
feet from the window, cut off all glimpses of the outer world from any
person within. A little short straw was strewn on the floor, between
the stocks and the wall, which formed the only bed of any one there
imprisoned. It was a place where a man of any humanity would scarcely
have left his dog; cold, damp, dreary, depressing beyond measure.

That litter of straw, on the damp stones, had been for five weary weeks
the bed of Alice Benden. She was allowed no change of clothes, and all
the pittance given her for food was a halfpenny worth of bread, and a
farthing's worth of drink. At her own request she had been permitted to
receive her whole allowance in bread; and water, not over clean nor
fresh, was supplied for drinking. No living creature came near her save
her keeper, who was the bell-ringer at the cathedral--if we except the
vermin which held high carnival in the vault, and were there in
extensive numbers. It was a dreadful place for any human being to li