The Galilee-bell tolls, and the knocking ceases.
A few curious citizens look out. A dog barks. Then a door opens and closes with a bang.
There is silence in the square again, but the lady still stands at her window, and she follows the man in her thoughts.
Now he is admitted by the monks, and goes at once to the altar of the patron-saint of the church, where he kneels and asks for a coroner.
The coroner, an aged monk, comes to him and confesses him. He tells his crime, and renounces his rights in the kingdom; and then, in that dark church, he strips to his shirt and offers his clothes to the sacrist for his fee. Ragged, mud-stained clothes, torn cloak, all fall from him in a heap upon the floor of the church.
Now the sacrist gives him a large cloak with a cross upon the shoulder, and, having fed him, gives him into the charge of the under-sheriff, who will next day pass him from constable to constable towards the coast, where he will be seen on board a ship, and so pass away, an exile for ever.
The night is cold. The lady pulls a curtain across the window, and then, stripping herself of her chemise, she gets into bed.