"It is here, good heart," cried Countess Margaret. "God bless its efficacy!—drink."
"It is as nothing," cried Comyn, after swallowing the contents of the cup. "It is as nothing—these tormina laugh at the puny quencher of fires fiercer than those of Gehenna. I must submit. Thou wilt have no terce from my earldom, wherein I am not yet feudally seised. Alas! shall my innocent be left terceless—a beggar—the dependant of my brothers? 'Sdeath, this is worse than these scorching fires! Call the clerk of St John's—quick."
The countess flow out of the room, and in a short time returned with the clerical lawyer.
"Attend, sir," cried Comyn. "Thou seest one in the hands of death; prepare, with the greatest speed of thy quill, a liferent disposition of my whole earldom in favour of Countess Margaret, my wife. I shall then confess to thee, and thou shalt pray for me."
"The liferent disposition I shall make out," replied the clerk of St John's; "for Comyn's commands must be obeyed. But I, in behalf of the holy brethren of our order, must tell thee, noble earl, that our prayers can be of little avail if they are limited, in point of time, to the period of thy sojourn on earth. Thy mausoleum must be lighted for ten years with wax tapers, a thousand masses must be said for thy soul, and a pilgrimage to the Holy Land must be performed, ere we can hope to bring thee out of purgatory. If thou leavest the liferent of thy earldom to Countess Margaret—the fee going to thy eldest brother as heir—what is to pay the monks of St John for all their labours, in thus endeavouring to free thee from the pains of that temporary place of punishment?"
"No purgatory can equal these pains, man," cried the earl. "Thou shalt have my earldom this instant for one hour's relief from this hell-fire."
"Why, good priest," said the lady, "canst thou thus talk of worldly possessions to one in such agony? While I am thus ministering to the body, it would better become thee to minister to the soul, while it is still in its earthly tabernacle. I, his dear wife, asked for no liferent, and yet thou requirest a mortification."
"It is for his own sake," said the priest, "that I have recommended the provision of the means for saving his soul. We are not bees, to produce wax for tapers; nor birds of paradise, to fly from hence to Jerusalem, and sit on the holy shrine, without being fed as other birds; nor are we canonised saints, requiring no meat nor drink. We must live, or we cannot pray. Wilt thou, madam, give up a half of thy liferent, to aid in the redemption of the soul thou lovest so ardently?"
"Thou hast heard my lord's commands," rejoined the lady. "I cannot allow my mind to be occupied at present with thoughts of that contemptible trash thou callest gold. What is all the earldom of the Comyns to the preservation of the life of my dear husband?—Walter, dear Walter! what can be done for thee?"
"The priest hath already my commands," answered the earl. "The parchment!—the parchment!—and—and—water—water!"