The cross has more power; I will seek these violent men.

Meanwhile stay here, as you value the lives of all in the convent." Murray had now recollected himself, and acquiesced.

The prior took the crucifix from the altar, and ordering the porter to throw open the great doors (near which the incessant shouting seemed to proceed), he appeared before a turbulent band of soldiers, who were dragging a man along, fast bound with their leathern belts.

Blood trickling from his face fell on the hands of the ruthless wretches, who, with horrid yells, were threatening him with instant death.
The prior, raising the cross, rushed in among them, and, in the name of the blessed Son who died on that tree, bade them stand! The soldiers trembled before the holy majesty of his figure, and at his awful adjuration.

The prior looked on the prisoner, but he did not see the dark locks of the Englishman; it was the yellow hair of Scotland that mingled with the blood on his forehead.
"Whither do you hurry that wounded man ?" "To his death," answered a surly fellow.
"What is his offense ?" "He is a traitor." "How has he proved it ?" "He is a Scot, and he belongs to the disloyal Lord of Mar.