"Ha, from Landais, himself," exclaimed the bishop, as he read the letter, "with a promise to arrest the earl and all his companions, as soon as Richard's ambassador has arrived, and the money is paid!--The money is paid! What may that mean?"
"Can you not divine, good father?" asked the woodman. "In this good world of ours, there is a price for everything. We are all merchants, traders with what we make, or with what we possess. One man sells his barony, another his honour, another his conscience, another his soul. One acquires for himself power and sells the use of it, another gains a reputation and trades on that, as others do on learning or on skill. There is a difference of prices too; and the coin in which men require payment is various. A kingly crown is the price which some demand; a high office the price of others. The crosier or the triple crown is one man's price; the smile of a fair lady is another's; the sordid soul requires mere money; and this Landais, this Breton peasant, risen to be the minister and ruler of his imbecile prince, sells the duke's honour and his own for hard gold, Ha, ha, ha! He is quite right; for, of all the things which go to purchase such commodities, gold is the only solid permanent possession. What is honour, fame, power, or even woman's smile, but the empty, transitory, visionary deceit of an hour. Gold, gold, my lord bishop, untarnishable, persisting, ever-valuable gold is the only proper payment, when honesty, honour, feeling, and character are to be sold--Upon my life, I think so!--But there is the letter. Let the duke have it; show him the toils that are around him; and bid him break through before they close upon him."
"This is important, indeed," said the bishop, who had been reading the letter attentively; "and it shall be in the hands of the earl as soon as it be possible to deliver it. One question, however, let me ask you. Who, shall I tell the earl, has procured and sent to him this most valuable information? for I do not affect to believe that you are that which you seem to be."
"Nothing is what it seems to be," replied the woodman; "no, nothing in this world. It is a place of unreal things; but yet you might have satisfied yourself at the abbey, that Boyd the woodman is a faithful servant of the good abbess and nuns of St. Clare, and has been so long enough for them to have great confidence in him. However," he continued, in a somewhat changed tone, "tell the earl of Richmond, you have had it from a man who may ask his reward hereafter; for we are all mercenary. That reward shall neither be in gold, nor estates, nor honours, nor titles; but, when the struggle before him is accomplished, and he is successful, as he will be, then perchance Boyd the woodman may ask a boon; and it shall be but one.--Now I bring you your disguise;" and, passing through the door in the back of the room, he disappeared for a moment or two, and then returned, loaded with various pieces of apparel. The bishop smiled as he put them on; and the transformation was certainly most complete, as the frock of the carter was substituted for that of the monk, and the peasant's bonnet took the place of the cowl.
"We must get rid of your sandals, my lord," said the woodman; "and that is the most difficult part of the matter; for my foot is well nigh twice as large as yours, so that my boots will fit but ill."
"We will manage it," answered the bishop, "for I will thrust my feet in, sandals and all, and that will fill them up."
The woodman laughed; but the plan seemed a good one, and was adopted.
"Here is a little Venice mirror," said the woodman. "Now look at yourself, my good lord. I will not ask, if your best friend would know you, for dear friends always forget; but would your bitterest enemy recognise you, though hatred has so long a memory?"
"I do not think he would," answered the bishop, smiling at his own appearance; "but yet I fear, if we should be met in the wood by any of these people, and detained, they may discover me by the tonsure."
"We will not be met," answered Boyd. "Now, follow me; but first stick this axe into your girdle, which may serve, both as an ensign of your new trade, and a means of defence."