Again the Prior writhed his lips to speak.
Dr. Layton rose abruptly and made a violent gesture.
“Down on your knees, Master Prior, if you need mercy.”
There was a quick murmur and ripple along the two lines as the Prior dropped suddenly on to his knees and covered his face with his hands.
Dr. Layton threw out his hand with a passionate gesture and began to speak—.
“There, reverend fathers and brethren,” he cried, “you see how low sin brings a man. This fellow who calls himself prior was bold enough, I daresay, in the church when treason was preached; and, I doubt not, has been bold enough in private too when he thought none heard him but his friends. But you see how treachery,—heinous treachery,—plucks the spirit from him, and how lowly he carries himself when he knows that true men are sitting in judgment over him. Take example from that, you who have served him in the past; you need never fear him more now.”
Dr. Layton dropped his hand and sat down. For one moment Ralph saw the kneeling man lift that white face again, but the doctor was at him instantly.
“Do not dare to rise, sir, till I give you leave,” he roared. “You had best be a penitent. Now tell me, sir, what you have to say. It shall not be said that we condemned a man unheard. Eh! Mr. Torridon?”
Ralph nodded sharply, and glanced at Chris; but his brother was staring at the Prior.
“Now then, sir,” cried the doctor again.