"Dear lady," said he, "I go no further, if I have them, than my
Sisters of Gracedieu. That hedged community of Christ's brides hath
all these commodities and more, even the paramount privilege of
Sanctuary, which is an appanage of the very highest in the Holy Fold.
And I must consider it as scarcely decent, as (by the Mass) not seemly
at all, that your Holy Thorn, this sainted sprig of your planting,
should lack the power to prick. Our people, madam, do indeed expect
it. It is not much. Nay!"--for he saw his Lady frown and heard her
toe-taps again--"indeed, it is not much. A little pit for your female
thief to swim at large, for your witch and bringer-in of hell's
ordinances; a decent gallows a-top for your proper male rascal; a
pillory for your tenderer blossom of sin while he qualify for an airy
crown, or find space for repentance and the fruits of true contrition;
lastly, a persuasive tumbril, a close lover for your incorrigible
wanton girls--homely chastisement such as a father Abbot may bestow,
and yet wear a comely face, and yet be loved by those he chasteneth.
Madam, is this too much for so great a charge as ours? We of Holy
Thorn nurture the good seed with scant fortune, being ridden down by
evil livers, deer-stealers, notorious persons, scandalous persons. A
little pit, therefore! a little limber gallows!"

But the Countess mused with her hand to her chin, by no means
persuaded. She was still a young woman, and a very lonely one; her
great prerogatives (which she took seriously) tired her to death, but
the need of exercising them through other people was worst of all. Now
she said doubtfully, "I have no reason in especial to trust you,
Abbot."

The Abbot, who knew better than she how true this was, bit his lip and
remained silent. He was a very comely man and leaned much to