So saying, Cedric rose and throwing open a small door at the rear of the room, indicated a dim and curving staircase that rose beyond it. The Abbot, after a searching glance at his host as though he feared some stratagem, quickly mounted, looking eagerly the while for the eye-hole in the wall. Both of us remained below; and Cedric, turning to a cabinet withdrew from it and placed upon the table a huge scroll of many sheets of freshly-written parchment.
A moment later, the churchman returned with brightly glowing face and twinkling eyes, and when the stairway door was closed again, exclaimed:
“Sir Cedric De La Roche, thou’rt a true friend to the Church, and thy services shall be well remembered. ’Tis William De Bellair, beyond all doubt, who sits in yonder inner room, and ’tis two archers of Grimsby who guard him. Full well do I know who led that band of palmers; and I say again thy fortunes shall not suffer for it.”
Cedric bowed and smiled.
“Ah well! ’Tis neither here nor there who led the palmers or whether they acted wholly of their own impulse. The thing of greatest moment now is this scroll of the articles which I have here in fair copy. Read it, I pray thee, and see whether thou wilt give thy voice for its adoption. Thou wilt see that I have introduced the provision for five and twenty barons who shall enforce the charter and also have written in some other matters that seem to us of moment.”
The Abbot took the scroll and quickly conned the pages whereon he and Cedric had on the first day of their labors come to full agreement. Then he came to the twentieth article, and ceasing reading, looked up at Cedric sharply.
“Thou hast here the wording for which thou did’st argue yesterday.”
“Aye, ’tis so,” answered Cedric, grimly, “read on.”
The Abbot complied, but quickly came to another stop.
“Let not the body of a free man be taken or imprisoned—” he read, “that again is the very language that was yesterday rejected.”