"Hist!" he cried at the same time, with a warning gesture.
"Oh, I am heartily sick of caution," cried the smith, "my hand itches for the torch. It cannot be laid on too soon for me."
"Nay," Annys exclaimed, "the torch would be but a poor friend indeed. But come where we can talk more privily. A little patience, my friend."
"Oh, patience, patience," cried the fellow, bitterly, but striding after the poor priest.
"A pardon, a pardon," begged a poor woman, approaching Annys with outstretched palm.
Annys smiled and handed her one which she took eagerly.
Later on, it caused much discussion, for when its Latin was translated it proved to be no pardon at all. He had given her a piece of paper on which was written:—
"Et qui bona egerunt ibunt in vitam eternam."
It looked proper enough and like unto the usual Latin prayer that was written on such pardons, but in plain English it turned out to be only a homely piece of advice taken from Piers the Ploughman:—
"Those who do well shall go into everlasting life."