Mother and son both made a deep obeisance, and Aliva continued:--
"My friends, I am in sore plight. But I know ye to be faithful to your lord, and I trow ye will aid his daughter. I have ridden far and fast, at peril of my life, to escape De Breauté and his men, who even now follow hard upon my track. But I trust I am safe in this holy house, and with--"
But here exhausted nature gave way, and the brave girl, now that she found herself in comparative safety, fell senseless on the chapel floor.
Mistress Hodges, though but a peasant, was a woman of resource and energy.
"Alack, alack! she will die of chill in this cold chapel," she exclaimed. "Son, we must bear her hence!"
"But what if De Breauté's men be without, mother?" replied the cautious lay-brother.
"In good sooth, you speak true," replied the woman, casting an anxious gaze round the chapel, while she supported the head of the unconscious Aliva in her arms. Then she noticed a gleam of light shining through a half-open door on the south side of the altar.
"See, my son," she exclaimed, "whither that door leads. There may be help near at hand."
The lay-brother opened the door and looked into the apartment within.
"'Tis a sacristy, or priest's room," he replied, with his knowledge of ecclesiastical arrangements. "There is no one within," he added, glancing hastily around, "and there is a fire on the hearth, and a settle with cushions."