for one can't
eat much of it. I break my fast with Moss, when I can."

Beatrice could not help laughing.

"My poor father! I wish I could just fly in every morning, to make the
porridge for thee."

"Blessed be the memory of the Twelve Patriarchs! Child, thou wouldst
scarcely escape with whole bones. If Licorice hated Christians before,
she hates them tenfold now.--Dost thou think, Belasez, that the Lady
lacks anything to-day? I have one of the sweetest pieces of pale blue
Cyprus that ever was woven, and some exquisite gold Damascene stuffs as
well."

"I am sure, Father, she will like to look at them, and I have little
doubt she will buy."

"How are matters going with thee, child? Has thy father got leave to
abandon his vows?"

"He hopes to receive it in a few days."

"Well, well! Matters were better managed in Israel. Our vows were
always terminable. And Nazarites did not shut themselves up as if other
men were not to be touched, like unclean beasts. We always washed
ourselves, too. There is an old monk at Norwich, that scents the street
whenever he goes up it: and not with otto of roses. I turn up a side
lane when I see him coming. Even the Saracens are better than that. I
never knew any but Christians who thought soap and water came from
Satan." [Note 2.]

"Well, we all wash ourselves here," said Beatrice, laughing, "unless it
be Father Warner; I will not answer for him."

"This world is a queer place, my Belasez, full of crooked lanes and
crookeder men and women. Men are bad enough, I believe: but women!--"

Beatrice could guess of what woman Abraham was especially thinking.

"Is Cress come with thee, my father?"

"No--not _here_," answered the old Jew, emphatically. "And he never
can."

"Why?"

"Belasez, I have a sad tale to tell thee."

"O my father! Is there anything wrong with Cress?"

It was impossible to recognise Delecresse as uncle instead of brother.

"Ay, child, wrong enough!" said Abraham sadly.

"Is he so ill, my father?"

"Ah, my Belasez, there is a leprosy of the soul, worse than that of the
body. And there is no priest left in Israel who can purge that! Child,
hast thou never wondered how Sir Piers de Rievaulx came to know of the
damsel's marriage--she that is the Lady's daughter?"

"Margaret? I never could tell how it was."

"It was Delecresse who told him."

"Delecresse!"

"Ah, yes--may the God of Israel forgive him!"

"But how did Delecresse kno