IT MUST BE MAINTAINED
Rogier broke into a roar of laughter, when Cadell, with white face and in agitated voice, told him that Pabo was not dead.
"'Sdeath!" he exclaimed. "I never quite believed that he was."
"Not that he was dead?" cried the chaplain. "Did you ever see a man burnt as black as a coal and live after it?"
"That was not he. I doubted it then."
"It must have been he. He was buried as a dog in a dungheap, and"—Cadell lowered his voice—"he is no longer there."
"Because these fellows here have removed the body and laid it in consecrated ground. It was a trick played on us, clever in its way, though I was not wholly convinced. Now I shall let them understand what it is to play jokes with me. I can joke as well."
"But what do you mean, Rogier?"
"That these Welsh rogues have endeavored to make us believe that the old Archpriest is dead, so that our vengeance might be disarmed and he allowed to escape. He is in hiding somewhere. Where is that fellow who informed you?"
"Nothing further is to be got out of him."