“It has been removed—­they have had notice of this visitation,” stammered the discomfited man; but Brother Lawrence cut him short.

“Your reverence knows that that is impossible,” he said, addressing the tall monk:  “no word of this visitation had reached even our ears till your arrival this very morning.  This house has ever been well thought of by our fraternity, and pays its dues to Holy Church as I would all other houses did.  I trust your mind is satisfied.”

The monk bent his head; but before he could speak, Paul had raised himself on his pillows, and was speaking in quick, earnest tones.

“Holy father, listen, I pray you, to me,” he said, “and trust not the testimony of yon traitorous fellow, who, if he had had his will, would have done to death the son of our sainted monarch King Henry.

“Nay, let him not escape,” he cried, as he saw the man make an attempt to reach the door, which was promptly frustrated by the sudden appearance of Jack Devenish, who had heard of this sudden incursion of monks, and had rushed to the house in some fear of what might be happening there.

“Hold him fast, Jack,” cried Paul, with increasing energy, “till I have told my tale;” and forthwith he described in graphic words how this man had identified the prince, and had striven to sell him to the enemy, that the House of York might triumph in his death, or in possession of the heir whose life alone could redeem the cause of Lancaster from destruction.  The story was listened to with deep attention and no little sympathy, for the visit, the peril, and the flight of the prince were becoming known in this part of the country, and the clergy of all degrees were thankful indeed that the heir of England was safe, as they were all deeply attached to the cause of the Red Rose.

So Paul’s story roused a great wave of anger against the mean fellow, who would thus earn his own living by betraying those whose bread he had eaten, or one whose life it should be his care to protect; and scarce had Paul done speaking before Brother Lawrence took up the gauntlet, and addressing himself to the tall monk, pointed to Paul, as he lay still white and weak upon his pillows.

“And hear farther, reverend father:  this youth who now speaks to you is he of whom I told you as we rode along, who bore torture without yielding up the name of the hiding place to which he knew the prince had escaped.  But for him young Edward might yet have fallen into the hands of these robbers; for they would have watched our Priory and have set upon all who went or came, and ravaged the whole country, so that even the habit of the monk would not have protected or disguised him.  And these good folks here at this farm were they who rescued him from the hands of the robbers; for the maiden alone, without the help of this stalwart youth, could not have brought him, ill and fainting as he was, all these long weary miles.  And they took him in; and this woman, whom