But the day’s proceedings seemed drawing to a close, and nothing of any great peril to the Lord of Chad had occurred, when just at the close of the afternoon Brother Fabian suddenly came forward and whispered a few words in the prior’s ear; and he, after a moment of apparent hesitation, spoke aloud.

“It is with great grief that I learn that one of our own brethren has been heard to utter words which sound strangely like those of heresy; but since it is our bounden duty that strict justice be done to all, whether high or low, rich or poor, nay, whether it be our own son or brother, I here call upon Brother Emmanuel to stand forth publicly, as others have done, and answer the charge brought against him.”

The prior looked round as he spoke these words in a loud voice; but there was no movement either in the crowd or amongst the cowled monks, and he spoke the name again without eliciting any response.

The Lord of Mortimer leaned forward and spoke to his neighbour.

“Methinks this brother was a member of your household, Sir Oliver,” he said, with a gleam of malice in his eye.  “Surely you received a mandate bidding you come with all your household.  Where is this preceptor of your sons?”

“His duties ceased last night,” replied Sir Oliver calmly, in a tone loud enough to reach the prior’s ears.  “He had command to return today to the priory, and last evening he said farewell to me and mine.  I have not seen him today.”

“Did he know of the summons to all to attend the gathering here today?”

Sir Oliver bent his head.

“He did.  I showed him the paper myself.”

“Then wherefore is he not here?”

“That know I not.  I did not know he was not here.  I do not know it even now.  I have never known Brother Emmanuel fail in obedience yet.”

The name was being whispered all round.  The monks were professing to be searching for the missing brother.  The prior looked at Sir Oliver with some sternness.

“Where is this monk?” he asked,

“I do not know,” was the firm response.  “I have not seen him since his farewell yesternight.”

“You thought he was coming hither?”

“I knew naught.  He told me naught of his purposes.”

The prior’s eyes flashed ominously.

“Have a care, Sir Oliver, have a care.  Brother Emmanuel is yet within the walls of Chad.  I have reason to know he has not left them the whole of this past week.  He has been disobedient to his vow of submission.  He has not come at my bidding.”

“I know naught of it,” replied the knight calmly.

The Lord of Mortimer leaned forward once more with an evil smile in his eyes.

“Let not mistaken generosity get the better of prudence, my brother,” he said, with derisiveness in his tone.  “You know well that the penalty of hiding and harbouring a heretic is little short of that of heresy itself.  Have a care you do not lose all just for the caprice of the moment, which in time to come you will have leisure bitterly to repent.”