Yet that ghost must be laid, Jeffrey." "Pity if so, master.

Moreover, you may find it hard.

Ghost-laying is a priest's job, and when maids' waists are willing, men's arms reach far." "Be off, sirrah," roared Sir John, and Jeffrey went.
Ten minutes later they were riding for the Abbey, three miles away, and within half-an-hour Sir John was knocking, not gently, at its gate, while the monks within ran to and fro like startled ants, for the times were rough, and they were not sure who threatened them.

When they knew their visitor at last they set to work to unbar the great doors and let down the drawbridge, that had been hoist up at sunset.
Presently Sir John stood in the Abbot's chamber, warming himself at the great fire, and behind him stood his serving-man, Jeffrey, carrying his long cloak.

It was a fine room, with a noble roof of carved chestnut wood and stone walls hung with costly tapestry, whereon were worked scenes from the Scriptures.