"Who, and what are you?" he demanded.

"A brother of the same order as yourself," replied the monk, in deep and
thrilling accents, but without raising his hood; "and I am come to hear
your confession by command of the Earl of Derby."

"Are you of this abbey?" asked Paslew, tremblingly.

"I was," replied the monk, in a stern tone; "but the monastery is
dissolved, and all the brethren ejected."

"Your name?" cried Paslew.

"I am not come here to answer questions, but to hear a confession,"
rejoined the monk. "Bethink you of the awful situation in which you are
placed, and that before many hours you must answer for the sins you have
committed. You have yet time for repentance, if you delay it not."

"You are right, father," replied the abbot. "Be seated, I pray you, and
listen to me, for I have much to tell. Thirty and one years ago I was
prior of this abbey. Up to that period my life had been blameless, or,
if not wholly free from fault, I had little wherewith to reproach
myself--little to fear from a merciful judge--unless it were that I
indulged too strongly the desire of ruling absolutely in the house in
which I was then only second. But Satan had laid a snare for me, into
which I blindly fell. Among the brethren was one named Borlace Alvetham,
a young man of rare attainment, and singular skill in the occult
sciences. He had risen in favour, and at the time I speak of was elected
sub-prior."