st, journeying from the
Abbey of Chertsey to the Priory of Saint John at Midhurst. He passed
often that way, and never without breaking his journey at the hospitable
board of Cosford.

"Welcome again, good Father Athanasius!" cried the burly Knight. "Come
sit here on my right and give me the news of the country-side, for there
is never a scandal but the priests are the first to know it."

The priest, a kindly, quiet man, glanced at an empty place upon the
farther side of his host. "Mistress Edith?" said he.

"Aye, aye, where is the hussy?" cried her father impatiently. "Mary, I
beg you to have the horn blown again, that she may know that the supper
is on the table. What can the little owlet do abroad at this hour of the
night?"

There was trouble in the priest's gentle eyes as he touched the Knight
upon the sleeve. "I have seen Mistress Edith within this hour," said he.
"I fear that she will hear no horn that you may blow, for she must be at
Milford ere now."

"At Milford? What does she there?"

"I pray you, good Sir John, to abate your voice somewhat, for indeed
this matter is for our private discourse, since it touches the honor of
a lady."

"Her honor?" Sir John's ruddy face had turned redder still, as he stared
at the troubled features of the priest. "Her honor, say you--the honor
of my daughter? Make good those words, or never set your foot over the
threshold of Cosford again!"

"I trust that I have done no wrong, Sir John, but indeed I must say what
I have seen, else would I be a false friend and an unworthy priest."

"Haste man, haste! What in the Devil's name have you seen?"

"Know you a little man, partly misshapen, named Paul de la Fosse?"

"I know him well. He is a man of noble family and coat-armor, being the
younger brother of Sir Eustace de la Fosse of Shalford. Time was when I
had thought that I might call him son, for there was never a day that
he did not pass with my girls, but I fear that his crooked back sped him
ill in his wooing."

"Alas, Sir John! It is his mind that is more crooked than his back. He
is a perilous man with women, for the Devil hath given him such a tongue
and such an eye that he charms them even as the basilisk. Marriage may
be in their mind, but never in his, so that I could count a dozen and
more whom he has led to their undoing. It is his pride and his boast
over the whole countryside."

"Well, well, and what is this to me or mine?"

"Even now, Sir John, as I r