He paused, as if reluctant to put his thoughts into words even to his wife.  He was going through that mental and spiritual struggle which was speedily to do so great a work in the world—­that struggle which led to the final fall of the religious houses in this land.  Viewed as a God-appointed ordinance, or at least as a bulwark and rampart of the Church, it seemed a fearful thing to hold them in aught but awe and reverence, and to look upon their sons as saints and godly men, in whom the Spirit of the Lord was working.  But when the corrupt practices within those walls were known, when men were convinced, sorely against their will, that the inmates were licentious, depraved, covetous, and tyrannical, then indeed it became hard to recognize their God-appointed mission.

Sir Oliver was no heretic; he had not even the faint sympathy with and comprehension of the tenets of the heretics which were creeping into some enlightened minds.  He had imbibed some new and enlightened views from stanch sons of the Church, who were themselves preaching the doctrine of internal reform, but he went no further in these matters than his teachers.  The very name of heresy was odious to him, but none the less did it go sorely against the grain to be a slave to the haughty Prior of Chadwater, and at his bidding to violate (as it seemed to him) the sacred laws of hospitality.

Whilst Julian was gone upon his errand, he paced the floor restlessly and moodily.

“I would we had got him off before this coil began.  But who could have thought it would come—­and Brother Emmanuel so true and faithful a son of the Church?  Knowest thou, wife, that he keeps vigil three nights in the week in the chantry, watching sleeplessly, lest the Lord coming suddenly should find the whole house sleeping?  Edred keeps watch one night, and good old Margaret another.  I did but lately know this thing.  Brother Emmanuel holds that the Church should ever be watching and waiting for her Lord, lest He come as a thief in the night.  He would have prayers ceaselessly ascending before Him.  It is his grief and pain that within the cloister walls, whence he has come, no true vigil is kept, but that sloth and ease have taken the place of watching and vigil and prayer.  And such a man as that they would have me deliver to his death!”

“Art sure they mean him ill, my husband?  It seems scarce possible.”

“I am very sure that it is so,” answered the knight, with a stern glance bent upon the sunny landscape beyond the open window.  “It is strange, but it is true; and I sometimes think that some fearful and unlooked-for judgment must some day fall upon men who—­”

But Sir Oliver paused, for his wife had made a gesture, as if to check the impetuous words that sprang to his lips.  He smiled a little darkly.

“Thou art right, good dame.  Such words are better left unspoke.  If it be dangerous to think some things, it be more dangerous to speak one’s thoughts.  Let it be enough for us that the Lord reigneth, be the earth never so unquiet.  He sitteth a judge and a king.  In His hands are the final issues of all things.”