"Have no fear—none shall touch you," answered Pabo, addressing the prelate. He disdained even to look at the interpreter.
"If any harm come to my men, you shall be held accountable. They are King Henry's men; he lent them to me. He sent them to guard my sacred person."
"And mine," said Cadell. "Our father in God cannot make himself understood without me."
"You are in no danger," said Pabo.
Then the Archpriest stepped forward, went to the belfry, and disengaged the rope from the hand of him who was jangling the bell. With a loud, deep, sonorous voice, he called in their native tongue to his tribesmen to be silent, to cease from aggression, and to explain the cause of the tumult.
He was obeyed immediately. All noise ceased, save that caused by the Normans, who continued to thunder menaces.
"Silence them also," said Pabo to the bishop.
"I—I have lost my voice," said the frightened prelate.
At the same moment the crowd parted, and a band of sturdy peasants, carrying clubs, and one armed with a coulter, came forward, drawing with them Rogier, the bishop's brother, and a young and beautiful woman with disheveled hair and torn garments. Her wrists had been bound behind her back, but one of the men who drew her along with a great knife cut the thongs, and she shook the fragments from her and extended her freed arms to the priest.
"Pabo!"