12/29 Ask him of Isabella the nun, who was my father's cousin, and her end and that of her companions. Ask him of----" At this point a monk, to whom the Abbot had whispered something, slipped behind Emlyn and threw a cloth over her face. She tore it away with her strong hands, and screamed out-- "He is a murderer, he is a traitor. I can prove it, and that's why Foterell died--because he knew----" The Abbot shouted something, and again the monk, a stout fellow named Ambrose, got the cloth over her mouth. |