munda me._"

But other thoughts and other emotions crowded upon him, when he beheld
the groups of his old retainers advancing to meet him: men, women, and
children pouring forth loud lamentations, prostrating themselves at his
feet, and deploring his doom. The abbot's fortitude had a severe trial
here, and the tears sprung to his eyes. The devotion of these poor
people touched him more sharply than the severity of his adversaries.

"Bless ye! bless ye! my children," he cried; "repine not for me, for I
bear my cross with resignation. It is for me to bewail your lot, much
fearing that the flock I have so long and so zealously tended will fall
into the hands of other and less heedful pastors, or, still worse, of
devouring wolves. Bless ye, my children, and be comforted. Think of the
end of Abbot Paslew, and for what he suffered."

"Think that he was a traitor to the king, and took up arms in rebellion
against him," cried the sheriff, riding up, and speaking in a loud
voice; "and that for his heinous offences he was justly condemned to
death."

Murmurs arose at this speech, but they were instantly checked by the
escort.

"Think charitably of me, my children," said the abbot; "and the blessed
Virgin keep you steadfast in your faith. Benedicite!"

"Be silent, traitor, I command thee," cried the sheriff, striking him
with his gauntlet in the face.