Chapter 5 - Page 2

"Ho! ho! ho!" and he shook his portly sides at his own jest.

"Ho! ho! ho!" echoed the Sacristan, in the tone and tune in which an
inferior applauds the jest of his superior.--Then added, with a
hypocritical shuffle, and a sly twinkle of his eye, "It is our duty,
most holy father, to comfort the widow--He! he! he!"

This last laugh was more moderate, until the Abbot should put his
sanction on the jest.

"Ho! ho!" said the Abbot; "then, to leave jesting, Father Philip, take
thou thy riding gear, and go to confess this Dame Avenel."

"But," said the Sacristan----

"Give me no _Buts;_ neither But nor If pass between monk and
Abbot, Father Philip; the bands of discipline must not be
relaxed--heresy gathers force like a snow-ball--the multitude expect
confessions and preachings from the Benedictine, as they would from so
many beggarly friars--and we may not desert the vineyard, though the
toil be grievous unto us."

"And with so little advantage to the holy monastery," said the
Sacristan.

"True, Father Philip; but wot you not that what preventeth harm doth
good? This Julian de Avenel lives a light and evil life, and should we
neglect the widow of his brother, he might foray our lands, and we
never able to show who hurt us--moreover it is our duty to an ancient
family, who, in their day, have been benefactors to the Abbey. Away
with thee instantly, brother; ride night and day, an it be necessary,
and let men see how diligent Abbot Boniface and his faithful children
are in the execution of their spiritual duty--toil not deterring them,
for the glen is five miles in length--fear not withholding them, for
it is said to be haunted of spectres--nothing moving them from pursuit
of their spiritual calling; to the confusion of calumnious heretics,
and the comfort and edification of all true and faithful sons of the
Catholic Church. I wonder what our brother Eustace will say to this?"

Breathless with his own picture of the dangers and toil which he was
to encounter, and the fame which he was to acquire, (both by proxy,)
the Abbot moved slowly to finish his luncheon in the refectory, and
the Sacristan, with no very good will, accompanied old Martin in his
return to Glendearg; the greatest impediment in the journey being the
trouble of restraining his pampered mule, that she might tread in
something like an equal pace with poor jaded Shagram.

After remaining an hour in private with his penitent, the monk
returned moody and full of thought. Dame Elspeth, who had placed for
the honoured guest some refreshment in the hall, was struck with the
embarrassment which appeared in his countenance. Elspeth