"There is no such man within the walls of St. Clare," replied the abbess. "I only stand up for the privileges of the place, because they are its privileges; but at the same time, I tell you that there is no sanctuary man here, of any kind or description whatever."
"Hell and damnation!" exclaimed the more vehement of the leaders. "Will you pretend to tell me that a man did not come here this very evening, habited as a friar, who never went forth again with those who brought him? On upon the gates there. This is all jugglery!"
"Hold yet a moment, ere it comes to strife," exclaimed the abbess; and the other leader also exclaimed:
"Hold, hold there! What would you say, lady? for we cannot be dallied with."
"I say," replied the abbess, "that the damnation you evoke will some day fall upon your own heads, if you pursue this course. Moreover, I tell you, that there is no such man here, nor any man at all, but the tenants and officers of the abbey. A friar certainly did come here this evening, with a goodly company of guests. He did not depart with them; but he went away afterwards, and is no longer here--hear me out! To save bloodshed, I will give you the means of satisfying yourselves, protesting, at the same time, against the act you commit, and clearly reserving my right to punish you for it, at an after time, when you shall not plead my permission as an excuse."
"We will look to that," cried one of the others boldly. "Open your gates. We shall not want excuses for anything we do."
"Nay!" answered the abbess. "I open not my gates to all your lewd band. Any six may enter, if they will, and search every corner of the abbey, from one end to the other. You will then soon see, that I have means of defence if I choose to exert them. If you accept the terms, bid all the rest of the men retire to the other side of the green. If not, I will tell the cross-bow men and cannoniers to fire."
"We must have ten with us, otherwise we shall never get through the search," said the leader, who had first spoken.
"Well, ten be it then," said the abbess. "We shall only have more in our hands to hang, if those without attempt to play us any treachery."
"You are merry, lady," said the leader. "Is it so agreed?"
"Yes!" replied the abbess; "bid your men back, quite to the other side. Then let ten advance, and I will come down and order them to be admitted."
She waited till she had seen the retreat of the band, to the far part of the green; and then descending, she gave her orders with great clearness and rapidity, directing such arrangements to be made as would display her little force to the greatest advantage, and ordering her porter as the commander-in-chief, to send two or three stout men with each party of the searchers, keeping a wary eye at the same time upon the band without, to insure they did not approach nearer to the gates.
She then retired into the chapel, where she found the nuns all gathered round the great altar, like a swarm of bees. Having quieted and re-assured them, as well as she could, she betook herself to the window, which gave light to the gallery appropriated to the sisterhood, and, opening the lattice, looked out into the court. By this time, the ten men to whom she had promised admittance were entering, one by one, through the wicket; and she flattered herself that their faces, seen by the light of the torches, showed some surprise at the numbers collected for the defence of the place. The first part of the building, however, which they chose to search, was the chapel, and hurrying down, she met them at the great altar in the midst of her nuns. No incivility was committed; for the men without, with their loaded hand-guns, and some fifteen or sixteen others, with steel cross-bows in their hands, had imposed a salutary reverence upon the intruders. The chapel, however, was searched in every part; and when this was done, the soldiers gone, and the door once more locked, the abbess again resumed her station at the window, with a heart which, notwithstanding her bold exterior, beat somewhat anxiously for the departure of the band.
She saw the buildings on either side of the court examined thoroughly; and then, dividing into three parties, the searchers proceeded on their way, disappearing from her sight. She listened for their voices as they went, and could trace them part of the way round the great quadrangle; but then all was silent again, and she judged that they had gone to the most remote parts of the building--perhaps even to the gardens--to sweep it all the way up, in order to prevent the possibility of a fugitive escaping.
All was silent for a few minutes, except the low murmurs of the abbey-men speaking in the court below; but then came some sounds which startled and alarmed the abbess; for, after a crash, as of a door forced open, she could distinctly hear a shout of "Here he is, here he is! We've got him."
A loud murmuring of many tongues succeeded; and in a state of trembling anxiety, she waited for the result, till, to her great relief and even amusement, she beheld the whole party of ten re-appear, dragging along her cowardly bailiff in the midst of them, while several of the retainers of the abbey followed with a look of malicious fun upon their faces.
"Upon my life! upon my soul! by all the blessed saints, I tell you true," cried the unhappy bailiff. "Here, Giles, porter, tell them who I am, man--He can tell you--he can tell you."
"Faith, you are mistaken there, if you call me porter," said the man he addressed. "I know nothing about you. You are mistaken in me, good sir. I am the bailiff of the abbey."
"There, there," said one of the leaders of the soldiery. "It is all in vain, my good lord, so come along--there, take him out."
The abbess could not refrain from laughing, although she felt a strong inclination to interfere, and claim the poor bailiff as the especial property of the convent. Before she could make up her mind, however, the man was past the gates; but still, while one party of the searchers remained in the court, another turned back and pursued the examination, till not a hole or corner of the abbey was left unexplored.
In the meanwhile, however, a great deal of loud cursing and swearing was heard from the green; words of command were given, orders shouted forth; and at length, the porter hurriedly closed the wicket, exclaiming--
"Up to the walls! Bend your cross-bows! What are they about now?--You gunners, stand here below!--You pass not, sir, you pass not, till we know what all this is," he continued, addressing the leader who had first spoken to the abbess, and who, with three companions, now hurried into the court from the more secluded part of the building.
"I know not what it is any more than you do, my good man," replied the other; "but if you let me out, I will soon see."
"They are coming forward towards the gates, sir!" exclaimed the porter. "Shoot at them if they come too close, my men!--You are a knight, sir, it seems; and we will keep you as a hostage for the safety of the abbey."
"Nay, I cannot be answerable for that unless you let me forth," replied the other; "but if you do, I pledge my knightly word, as a gentleman and a Christian, that all the troops shall be drawn off, and the abbey left unmolested."
He spoke eagerly and hastily, evidently under some alarm but the old porter was not satisfied, and he replied--
"Here, put it down and your name to it. Here are pen and ink, and the visitor's book in the lodge." The officer hurried in, and did as was required at once; for the four unpleasant-looking hand culverins were pointed at him and his companions, and a lighted match in each man's hand ready to discharge them. "There it is," he said, when he had written, "Now let me pass."
The porter looked over the writing. Whether he could read or not, I cannot tell; but when he had satisfied himself as far as he was able, he cautiously opened the wicket, and let the intruders pass out one by one.
The commander led the way, hurrying on with a quick step; and he certainly did not arrive as soon as he could have wished.
"What is the matter?" he exclaimed; "what is the matter?"
"Mort Dieu!" cried the second in command, "we have been cheated, Sir John. This man is not the bishop after all. Here is one of our own people who knows him, and says he is really the bailiff."
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