Then, while the solemn rhythm of their feet sounded across the planks that spanned the moat, she turned, and, signing to the Seneschal to follow her, she went below to meet them.

But when she reached the courtyard she was surprised to find they had not paused, as surely would have been seemly.

Unbidden, the Abbot had gone forward through the great doorway and down the gallery that led to the hall of Condillac.

Already, when she arrived below, the coffin and its bearers had disappeared, and the last of the monks was passing from sight in its wake.

Leaning against the doorway through which they were vanishing stood Fortunio, idly watching that procession and thoughtfully stroking his mustachios.