"Humphrey," said the abbat, "what is this thou hast sent us? Tell me, in the name of the saints, who gave thee this basket?"
As the abbat spoke the infant awoke from its slumber, and began to cry out, and lay its arms about, as if feeling for its nurse; and hereat our old janitor's wonderment being manifoldly increased, he started back, and crossed himself, and said, "Jesu Maria! Jesu Maria!"
"Say what thou hast to say," cried our sacrist; "my lord abbat would know who left this corbel at the gate, and why thou didst take it in?"
"But," said the old janitor, making that reverence to his superiors which he was bounden to do, "may I ask what it is that the corbel holds?"
"A babe," said the prior.
"And of the feminine gender—to make the matter worse," said the teacher of the Novices.
"'Tis witchcraft," said Humphrey—"'tis nought but witchcraft! What Christian man, or woman either, could ever think of sending a babe to the monks of Reading!"
"But who sent the basket?" said the abbat.
"That know I not," said old Humphrey, still crossing himself.
"Then who left it with thee?" asked the sacrist.