The priest, trembling with fear, raised himself up, and followed him to the window. It was still open, and, through the aperture, he descried, at a little distance, on a contiguous lawn, his own horse, saddled for service.
“Is that thy horse?” asked Bernard.
“It is,” faltered the priest.
“I’faith, thou couldst almost mount him from here,” said Bernard. “In a matter of life and death, a man could leap twenty feet, methinks, any day.”
“Would I might do it!” cried the priest.
He raised his eyes as he spoke, and glanced imploringly in Bernard’s face.
“Thou shouldst understand the Word,” said Bernard; “and ’tis now afore thee:—‘And Michal told David, saying, “If thou save not thy life to-night, to-morrow thou shalt be slain.” So Michal let David down through a window; and he went and fled and escaped.’”
A light flashed across the mind of the priest, and, as Bernard turned towards the door, his despair subsided.
Whatever might be Bernard’s meaning, he passed straight out, and closed the chapel-door behind him. He found Adam Green in the passage.
“How is it with Mistress Evaline?” he asked.