But if all be well after a short time has sped by, he may return again to thee." Sir Oliver was looking full at the handsome but crafty face of the prior, and as the last words passed his lips he saw a flicker in the eyes which made him say within his heart: "If Brother Emmanuel once re-enters these walls, he will never sally forth again.

Mischief is meant him; of that I am convinced.
What must I do?
Must I give him up to his death?
And how can I save him, even if I would ?" These thoughts were surging in his heart as he rode home.

The peril he had feared against those of his own name and race had been averted.

The payment of what was practically a heavy fine would secure to the boys immunity from the results of their rashness; but with the monk it was far different.

What had aroused the animosity of the fraternity, and why mischief was planned against him, Sir Oliver could not divine; but that something had occurred to arouse it he could not doubt.
No sooner had he reached home than he sought Brother Emmanuel in his own bare room, and laid before him the account of what had passed.
A strange look crossed the young monk's face.
"Then it is known!" he said simply.
"What is known ?" "That I am the author of a certain pamphlet, written some while ago, and taken to Germany to be printed, giving an account of some of the corruptions and abuses that have stolen into the Church, and in especial into the monasteries and religious houses of this land.
I could not choose but write it.