"Then," said he, "I say it were well for the Church of God, and for men's love of honour, and for truth and righteousness, that none know but ourselves this dead man's secret. Let him die Le Grand Sarrasin, a heathen Moor and no baptized Norman."
"But Maugher will be missed," I said.
"Yea; and a meeter tale than this will serve," said Hugo. "A false step, a squall at sea—anything but this." He pointed to the body. "Wilt thou keep silence?"
"Assist me, then," said Hugo.
So we dragged the body of the exile a short way over some rocks, whose black bases the deep water washed upon, and weighting it with some great stones, pushed it into the dark deeps. Thence none would raise him again to discover what manner of face wore Le Grand Sarrasin; and none would guess it was no dark visage of the south, but the face of an evil traitor, so much the more evil that he was called by the two high names Norman and Christian. There shall he lie till the great blare of Heaven's trump call good and ill to judgment.
CHAPTER XXI.
Conclusion. How, the above matters being finished, I was made known to my father.
Thus fell Le Grand Sarrasin, and I would fain finish this chronicle here, for all matters at the Vale most quickly returned to their old order, the next year being chiefly occupied with the rebuilding of the cloister and the planning of that great church that took so many years to build, which at last is so magnifical, that the old church wherein we used to sing with our boyish trebles seems in our memories but a poor place.