'And another,' cried Hordle John.
But the blind palmer would have none of their alms. 'Foolish, foolish pride!' he cried, beating upon his chest with his large brown hand. 'Foolish, foolish pride! How long then will it be ere I can scourge it forth? Am I then never to conquer it? Oh, strong, strong are the ties of flesh, and hard it is to subdue the spirit! I come, friends, of a noble house, and I cannot bring myself to touch this money, even though it be to save me from the grave.'
'Alas! father,' said Alleyne, 'how then can we be of help to thee?'
'I had sat down here to die,' quoth the palmer, 'but for many years I have carried in my wallet these precious things which you see set forth now before me. It were sin, thought I, that my secret should perish with me. I shall therefore sell these things to the first worthy passers-by, and from them I shall have money enough to take me to the shrine of Our Lady at Rocamadour, where I hope to lay these old bones.'
'What are these treasures, then, father?' asked Hordle John. 'I can but see an old rusty nail, with bits of stone and slips of wood.'
'My friend,' answered the palmer, 'not all the money that is in this country could pay a just price for these wares of mine. This nail,' he continued, pulling off his hat and turning up his sightless orbs, 'is one of those wherewith man's salvation was secured. I had it, together with this piece of the true rood, from the five-and-twentieth descendant of Joseph of Arimathea, who still lives in Jerusalem alive and well, though latterly much afflicted by boils. Aye, you may well cross yourselves, and I beg that you will not breathe upon it or touch it with your fingers.'
'And the wood and stone, holy father?' asked Alleyne, with bated breath, as he stared awe-struck at his precious relics.
'This cantle of wood is from the true cross, this other from Noah his ark, and the third is from the door-post of the temple of the wise King Solomon. This stone was
