"
"The Gilsland folk!"
"Even so, poor lad; and he was only on his way to see after his own,
or his wife's, since all the Whitburn sons are at an end, and the
Tower gone to the spindle side. They say, too, that the damsel he
wedded perforce was given to magic, and fled in form of a hare. But
be that as it will, young Copeland--St. Bede, pardon me! What have I
let out?"
"Reck not of that, brother. The tale is all over the town. How of
Copeland?"
"As I said even now, he was on his way to the Tower, when the Dacres-
-Will and Harry--fell on him, and left him for dead; but by the
Saints' good providence, his squire and groom put him on a horse, and
brought him to our Abbey at night, knowing that he is kin to our Sub-
Prior. And there he lies, whether for life or death only Heaven
knows, but for death it will be if only King Edward gets a scent of
him; so hold your peace, Master Groats, as to who it be, as you live,
or as you would not have his blood on you."
Master Groats promised silence, and gave numerous directions as to
the application of his medicaments, and Brother Kit took his leave,
reiterating assurances that Sir Leonard's life depended on his
secrecy.
Whatever was said in the booth was plainly audible in the inner room.
Grisell and Clemence were packing linen, and the little shutter of
the wooden partition was open. Thus Lambert found Grisell standing
with clasped hands, and a face of intense attention and suspense.
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