the priory to hear and see.  The lay brother says it will be a fine sight.  If they will not recant, the prior will give them over to the Lord of Mortimer, who will see that they suffer as heretics are wont to do.  If they abjure their errors, the prior will set them their penances; and these be no light thing, by what the brother says.  Some will be branded in the cheek, that they carry the mark of their shame all their days; some will have a green badge affixed to their arm, to wear until they have leave to cast it off, that all men may know they have been touched by the pollution; whilst others will be set to menial toil in the monasteries, and will perchance spend the rest of their lives there, sundered from their friends and their homes and all those whom they love.

“In truth, I marvel how any man can meddle with heresy in these days.  The bishops have resolved to stamp it out once and for all, and methinks they will do so right well if they take such steps as these.”

Sir Oliver’s face looked a little relieved as he heard his son’s words.

“Then everybody within the district is to be summoned to meet at the priory upon this same day?”

“Ay, verily; all are to be there, from the highest to the lowest.  The lay brothers are going round the country, bidding all to the spectacle.  It is thought that after all have seen what will take place upon that day, there will be no longer any fear of heresy round Chad and Mortimer.”

The boy ran off to try to learn more details.  Edred stood looking at his father with troubled eyes.

“Father,” he said, in a low voice, “must Brother Emmanuel go with us that day?”

Sir Oliver looked down at the paper in his hands.

“It bids me to attend with my family and all my household, save such as must be left to take due care of the house in my absence,” said he.  Then he paused awhile in silent thought, and looking up he said suddenly, “Go fetch Brother Emmanuel hither.”

Edred vanished silently and swiftly, and soon afterwards returned with the monk at his side.

The past few days had left their mark on the thin, spiritual face of the young ecclesiastic.  The knowledge of the peril in which he stood had not daunted his courage, though it had drawn lines in his face and deepened the fire which burned within those dark, resolute eyes.  His face looked as though he had slept but little, as though his nights had been passed in watching and prayer, as was indeed the case.  He had an air of calm, resolute courage and hopefulness, though it was plain that he knew the danger of his position, and was fully alive to the peril which menaced him.

Sir Oliver placed the paper in his hand, and watched him silently whilst he perused it.  When he had finished he handed it back, and stood for a moment looking out of the window with an expression of thoughtful concentration on his face.  At the end of a few moments he looked up quickly, and said: