“They spread a second cloth, and having shaken forth the earth, they put in it the bones of that obscure—yea, right arm and hand with the rest—”
“See you, Montjoy?”
“Then, having that which they need, they fill in the grave with care. They put over it the sod they had taken away. Rain and sun must presently make it whole. And probably no man hath ever gone that way to look. So the six went away as though they had moth wings, and now with no light—”
“Yet they give forth that right hand and arm doth shine, giving light whereby a reading man may read! Wherefore—oh, Hugh!—shone it not by Damson Hill?”
Said Montjoy, “All this is enough to father Suspicion, but the child must be named Certainty.”
“Then listen further!—Proceed, my son. You two and the hermit followed?”
“We followed, reverend father. Under Damson Hill those six parted, and three went by divers ways, belike to their own dwellings. But the three with the bones they had digged went Saint Leofric’s road. We followed Blackfriar and his fellows who would be lay brethren. The moon shone out. We followed to Friary Gate and saw them enter.”
“And then?”
“Gregory the hermit turned and went again to Damson Wood, and we with him. When we came to his cell there was red east.”