The Knight’s frown was thunderous.

“It might be well, my Lord Bishop, to leave our blessed Lady’s name out of this conversation.  It hath too much been put to shameful and treacherous use.  Mora is safe and well.  How far her peace of mind can be left undisturbed, I am here to discover.  I require, before aught else, the entire truth.”

But the Bishop had had time to recover his equanimity.  He rose with his most charming smile, both hands out-stretched in gracious welcome.

“Nay, my dear Knight, before aught else you require a bath!  Truly it offends my love of the beautiful to see you in this dusty plight.”  He struck upon the gong.  “Also you require a good meal, served with a flagon of my famous Italian wine.  You did well to come here in person, my son.  If naught hath been said to Mora, no harm is done; and together we can doubly safeguard the matter.  I rejoice that you have come.  But the strain of rapid travelling, when anxiety drives, is great. . . .  Jasper, prepare a bath for Sir Hugh d’Argent in mine own bath-chamber; cast into it some of that fragrant and refreshing powder sent to me by the good brethren of Santa Maria Novella.  While the noble Knight bathes, lay out in the ante-chamber the complete suit of garments he was wearing on the day when the sudden fancy seized him to have a swim in our river.  I conclude they have been duly dried and pressed and laid by with sweet herbs? . . .  Good.  That is well.  Now, my dear Hugh, allow Jasper to attend you.  He will give his whole mind to your comfort.  Send word to Brother Philip, Jasper, that I will speak with him here.”

The Bishop accompanied the Knight to the door of the library; watched him stride along the gallery, silent and sullen, in the wake of the hastening Jasper; then turned and walked slowly back to the table, smiling, and gently rubbing his hands together as he walked.

He had gained time, and he had successfully regained his sense of supremacy.  Taken wholly by surprise, he had not felt able to cope with this gaunt, dusty, desperately determined Knight.  But the Knight would leave more than mere travel stains behind, in the scented waters of the bath!  He would reappear clothed and in his right mind.  A good meal and a flagon of Italian wine would further improve that mind, mellowing it and rendering it pliable and easy to convince; though truly it passed comprehension why the Knight should need convincing, or of what!  Even more incomprehensible was it, that a man wedded to Mora, not two weeks since, should of his own free will elect to leave her.

The Bishop turned.

Brother Philip stood in the doorway, bowing low.

“Come in, my good Philip,” said the Bishop; “come in, and shut the door. . . .  I must have thy report with fullest detail; but, time being short, I would ask thee to begin from the moment when the battlements of Castle Norelle came into view.”