A GREAT RECOVERY AND RESTORATION
Symon, Bishop of Worcester, attended by his Chaplain, chanced to be walking through the Precincts on his way from the Priory to the Palace, just as the men-at-arms bearing the stretcher came through the great door of the Cathedral.
Father Benedict, cowled, and robed completely in black, a head and shoulders taller than the Bishop, walked behind him, a somewhat sinister figure.
The Bishop stopped. "Precede me to the Palace, Father Benedict," he said. "I wish to have speech with yonder Knight who, I think, comes this way."
The Chaplain stood still, made deep obeisance, jerked his cowl more closely over his face, and strode away.
The Bishop waited, a radiant figure, in the afternoon sunshine. His silken cassock, his silvery hair, his blue eyes, so vivid and searching, not only made a spot on which light concentrated, but almost seemed themselves to give forth light.
The steady tramp of the men-at-arms drew nearer.
Hugh d'Argent walked beside the stretcher, head erect, eyes shining, his hand upon the hilt of his sword.
When the Bishop saw the face of the Knight, he moved to meet the little procession as it approached.
He held up his hand, and the men-at-arms halted.