THE CHRONICLE OF CLEMENDY
by the grand gateway. At the latter place the men-at-arms answered that they had seen nothing of her, sorrowfully enough, since it was like asking a poor shepherd if he had a pipe of malmsey in his cabin: and the watch were quite assured that Mistress Loyse had not left the castle; in fine, she seemed utterly to have vanished like a puff of smoke on a windy day. I need not say that the keep was searched from top to bottom, from the wooden gallery on the roof, to the dungeon below the mound: but as one might expect there were no maidens of any kind to be seen within the walls thereof. There was however a most fetid and noisome stench proceeding from some prima materia that was gaily purging itself of its gross qualities over a brisk fire, and in truth everybody judged these qualities to be as gross as could be reasonably desired. Dom Benedict indeed was hanging his nose over the crucible as if he rather liked these vapours which made the throats of the searchers feel like a ploughed field after a long drought with a hot sun shining on it; but then he was a man of peculiar tastes and not a little eccentric. He did not seem thoroughly to comprehend what all this curious rout was doing in his laboratory and when the High Constable endeavoured to enlighten his understanding he merely said "Mistress Loyse, Mistress Loyse" as if he were thinking of something else; and as it was very evident that she was not there they all left him and tumbled down the ladder, and ran to the buttery directly to take the taste of the prima materia out of their throats. But
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