Cuthbert, hunger satisfied, is seated in the chimney-corner; the logs sparkle in the draughts of wind, which find their entrance through every cranny; the aged couple are seated as before.
“Father, we have told Cuthbert that you think he ought not to stay here, but he says he is bound to remain over the morrow; that will not hurt, will it?”
“Not if he is unseen, and the news of his coming has not got abroad.”
“Did anyone see thee, child, as thou enteredst the town?”
“Alas, I fear one did; Nicholas Grabber was hanging about the gate on the common.”
“Nicholas Grabber; then, my boy, thou must not tarry an hour; it is he who hast already betrayed thee.”
“Betrayed me! how?” said Cuthbert, alarmed.
Then the priest told Cuthbert all that our readers have already learned from his lips, and the lad at once recognized his danger, for he remembered how Nicholas had lurked about the Abbot’s chamber that eventful night, when the secret was revealed to him.
“You are right, Father,” he said, “I must go.”
“Too late!” said the priest, “too late!”