"I will go at once," said Alfred, "and summon the household."

"No; you would be observed. I am older and perhaps a little more
discreet. Stay with your mother till all is ready."

Alfred reluctantly obeyed, and Father Cuthbert went forth. So great was
their anxiety that it almost banished the power of prayer, save such
mental shafts as could be sent heavenward in each interval of thought.

At last Alfred, who was at the window, saw Redwald and his followers--
nearly a hundred in number--leave the castle and ride across towards
the forest in the direction of the farm in question. Another moment and
Father Cuthbert entered.

"Are you ready? If so, follow me."

He took them by a private passage into the chapel, where four men
already stood by the bier, ready to head the procession, and thirty or
forty others were gathered in the chapel or about the door--their own
vassals, good and true. They all were armed.

Father Cuthbert ascended the wooden tower above the chapel, which served
as a bell cot. He looked from its windows; the party of Redwald had
disappeared behind the trees.

He came down and gave the signal. The sad procession started; they
descended the steps to the courtyard. Redwald had left some forty or
fifty men behind--men who had grown old in arms, and who, if they had
pleased, might perhaps have stopped the exit, but they were not
sufficiently in the confidence of their leader to take the initiative;