"I owe thee little for the service.

If for naught else, thou deservest death for thy evil doings on that night." The abbot made no reply, for Braddyll's allusion conjured up a sombre train of thought within his breast, awakening apprehensions which he could neither account for, nor shake off.

Meanwhile, the cavalcade slowly approached the north-east gateway of the abbey--passing through crowds of kneeling and sorrowing bystanders;--but so deeply was the abbot engrossed by the one dread idea that possessed him, that he saw them not, and scarce heard their woful lamentations.

All at once the cavalcade stopped, and the sheriff rode on to the gate, in the opening of which some ceremony was observed.

Then it was that Paslew raised his eyes, and beheld standing before him a tall man, with a woman beside him bearing an infant in her arms.