knight and a valiant; he was dispossessed of his lands and slain by the Southron. May not the lady come hither to the sacrament of confession? the road is distant and painful to travel.'
'The lady is unwell, holy father,' answered the sacristan, 'and unable to bear the journey.'
'True—aye,—yes—then must one of our brethren go to her. Knowest thou if she hath aught of a jointure from this Walter de Avenel?'
'Very little, holy father,' said the sacristan; 'she hath resided at Glendearg since her husband's death, wellnigh on the charity of a poor widow, called Elspeth Glendinning.'
'Why, thou knowest all the widows in the country-side!' said the abbot. 'Ho! ho! ho!' and he shook his portly sides at his own jest.
'Ho! ho! ho!' echoed the sacristan, in the tone and tune in which an inferior applauds the jest of his superior. Then added, with a hypocritical snuffle, and a sly twinkle of his eye, 'It is our duty, most holy father, to comfort the widow. He! he! he!'
This last laugh was more moderate, until the abbot should put his sanction on the jest.
'Ho! ho!' said the abbot; 'then, to leave jesting, Father Philip, take thou thy riding gear, and go to confess this Dame Avenel.'
'But,' said the sacristan
'Give me no "Buts"; neither "but" nor "if" pass between monk and abbot, Father Philip; the bands of discipline must not be relaxed; heresy gathers force like a snowball; the multitude expect confessions and preachings from the Benedictine, as they would from so many beggarly friars, and we may not desert the vineyard, though the toil be grievous unto us.'
'And with so little advantage to the holy monastery,' said the sacristan.
'True, Father Philip; but wot you not that what preventeth harm doth good? This Julian de Avenel lives a light and evil life, and should we neglect the widow of his brother, he might foray our lands and we never able to show who hurt us; moreover, it is our duty to an
