De Boteler and his lady, had left Sudley to be present at some festival in London, the day previous to that on which father John was degraded; but, from the firmness he had hitherto shown, the result was anticipated, and Calverley had received orders to arrest the monk on his being dismissed the abbey, and to confine him in the castle, until the baron's return.
The degraded priest proceeded slowly amidst the sympathizing crowd that attended his steps. Several times he stopped, with the intention of requesting the people to return home and leave him to pursue his journey as he might, but he could not collect that firmness of demeanor which had been wont to distinguish him; and ashamed further to betray his weakness, he each time passed on without uttering a word. They had cleared the town, and were crossing the bridge on the left, over the Isborn, when Calverley, and about half a dozen retainers well mounted, darted from the bridge into the high road. Four of the men, springing from their horses, surrounded the monk and were about placing him on the back of one of the steeds, when the faculties, which had been for the moment chained by astonishment and indignation, burst forth with unexpected energy, and, with a form expanded to its full height, and an eye flashing fire, he shook off their rude grasp, and stepping back, demanded by what authority he was thus molested.
"By the authority of the Baron de Boteler," replied Calverley, as the monk fixed his eyes sternly upon him.
"It is false!" he replied, "no human law have I violated, and to no man's capricious tyranny will I submit."
"It becomes the bondman to speak thus of his lord," said Calverley with a sneer.
"I am not a bondman—nor is the Baron de Boteler my lord," said father John, in a deep, collected voice.
"O, I crave your pardon, good father," returned Calverley smiling; "I mistook you for one John Ball, the son of a bondman of this barony."
"My name is John Ball, and I have been the son of a bondman, insulting craven," replied the father, indignantly;—"but I owe the Baron de Boteler no allegiance—you well know that the priest can be servant to none save he who created the bond and the free."
"And this is the habit of some new order, that is to be honored by being adopted by the unpriestly son of a bondman!" said Calverley, pointing, in derision, at the coarse woollen dress of the monk. Something burst from the lips of the latter, but it was lost in Calverley's sudden command to seize him. The men again approached, but the first who caught the monk's arm fell to the ground, stunned and bleeding.
Another succeeded, and met the same fate—then another, and another;—but at length, overpowered by numbers, the gallant priest was bound, and placed before one of the retainers on horseback.