Craving shelter, De Poininges was admitted without any question, as all travellers partook indiscriminately of the general bounty.  The religious houses in those days were the constituted almonries of the rich and great; and through these overflowing channels, for the most part, proceeded their liberality and beneficence.

He was ushered into one of the locutories, or parlours, where, his business being with the prior, he was desired to wait until an audience could be granted.

Prior Thomas, from some cause or other not assigned, held himself at that season much estranged and secluded from his brethren.  He had seldom been seen from his lodgings, except when performing his accustomed office in the church.  He had not taken his place in the refectory of late, the duties of the day being performed by one of the elder canons.

De Poininges, after a short space, was summoned to the prior’s chamber.  In his progress, he passed the door of the refectory where the brethren were at supper.  It was large and wainscoted, and furnished with an ample dresser.  Cupboards were let into the wall, and windows opened into the kitchen, through which their meal was served.

One of the monks was reading the appointed service from a low pulpit or desk.  The prior’s seat was still vacant.  Their way now led through the cloisters, and at the opposite side of the quadrangle a portal communicated by a long and dark passage with the prior’s lodging.  This was a sort of inferior castellated mansion, with a spacious hall, and a smaller dining-chamber immediately adjoining.  At the end was a fair chapel or oratory.  Ascending a flight of stone steps, they came to a low door.  The conductor knocked, and De Poininges soon found himself in the presence of the proud Prior of Burscough.  He wore a square cap of black stuff, after the fashion of his order.  His cloak, or upper garment, was of the same colour, trimmed round the bottom with a double edging.  He reposed on a couch, or oaken settle, and seemed, in some measure, either indisposed or unwilling to notice the homage he received.  His figure was strong and muscular, his complexion dull, and almost swarthy.  His lips were full, and his aspect rather coarse than sensual.  His brows were high, and unusually arched; but his eyes were downcast, and seldom raised towards the speaker.  In speech he was brief and interrogative, but impatient under a tardy or inefficient answer.

“Thy name, stranger?”

“Michael de Poininges.”

“From whence?”

“My business concerns you in private.  I await your reverence’s pleasure.”

The prior motioned the attendants to withdraw.

“Proceed.  Thy message?” He spoke this with precipitancy, at the same time abruptly changing his position.

“Mine errand is touching one Margaret de la Bech,” said De Poininges, seating himself opposite to the prior; “and I am directed to crave your help for the clearing away of some loose suspicions regarding her concealment.”