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water in a bowl.
"Thank ye, Mistress," said Thur.
"God reward you," breathed the song-maker, sitting on the cobbles and cradling
the fallen head in her lap.
"He needs rest badly," said Thur, damping the dirty forehead and lips with his
own kerchief dipped in the bowl. "We must seek him shelter."
"Nay, that he will not until the pilgrimage be ended," she replied, troubled.
"Lie his sins so, heavy upon him?" Thur murmured, moistening the lips with
water.
"Sins?" she echoed, in horror. "No greater saint outside paradise than good Sir
Thomas."
Thur silently pursued his ministrations and presently succeeded in getting a little
water down his patient's throat. Some minutes passed. A hush fell upon the crowd who
already had learned that a great saint was departing hence, so that when he presently
moved and stared up in
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Thur's face, the fire of his resolution undimmed, there was a murmur of disappointment.
When, with the help of those two, he rose and stood between them; faint but dauntless,
the crowd swallowed its chagrin and veered to approbation. After all, he might pass hence
to paradise at the shrine, and what could be better than that?
Instantly the piper blew a merry lilt to cheer the afflicted, and, with all the
impedimenta restored to his enfeebled grasp, Sir Thomas trembled forward again. The
woman cleared her throat preparatory to breaking into song again, when she was stayed
by her shrewd and roving eye.
From an alley not six paces ahead there issued a procession of monks solemnly
chanting, the priest bearing an elevated crucifix. The woman grasped the piper by the
sleeve urgently and gave his ribs an angry nudge, accompanied by a warning turn of her
eye in the alley's direction. He saw with dismay, and a sort of strangled howl came from
the instrument as he descended with dexterity into a dismal chant, which she also took up
with gusto. That it was a different chant signified little to their agitation. The crowd fell
on its knees in company with the pilgrims. The piper crouched as a compromise. The
priest, who had missed nothing of this manoeuvre; glanced sourly at the woman for an
instant before turning left towards the abbey. The little band of pilgrims rose and
followed on at the tail of the procession, decorous and with chastened mien, the piper
droning., the five chanting, Sir Thomas muttering his eternal incantation, 'Holy St. Alban
sustain me. Blessed Jesu be my strength. Sweet Mary have mercy!'
Thur and the others rode slowly on behind them. Hardly had this procession
passed when they saw in the distance the banners of another. First-came priests carrying a
huge cross, then more priests with banners, then a procession of people, men, women and
children, all mother-naked, walking two by two. Everyone held in his hand a leather
scourge, and with tears and groans they lashed themselves on their backs, down which
the blood poured, all the time weeping and imploring the forgiveness of God and his
Mother
"What in God's name be these`'" asked Jan.
"'Tis the sect of the Flagellants," replied Thur. "I have heard of them, but never
seen them. They started in Peruga, then in Rome, and spread all over Italy. They do this
for their sins and for the sins of others. Or so 'tis said."
"'Tis an evil sight," said Morven. "They do it to excess. 'Tis true that we of the
witch cult are taught that water purifieth the body, but the scourge purifieth the soul, but
we love not to bring blood. "
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Olaf watched everything in silence and turned it all over in his mind. He was
seeing an aspect of life far removed from his birds and the seasonal beauties of the
wild-wood, yet seeming in some strange way to supplement them, as though viewing the
whole of a sphere instead of one of its sections.
Jan for his part saw as much as Olaf or Morven, for he was naturally shrewd and
observant, but he had the obsession of him who succeeds. He saw these things as
something which supported his own ambition and views. Freedom, ease of life, fine
clothes, all these were his by right of birth, things which he would presently recover.
As for Morven, she had the aspect of a looker-on. She was set apart by the cruelty
of the world's most powerful body of men, and if they could not break her will they had
done their best to break her body. Only her youth and natural resilience saved that. In its
complete recovery from harsh usage she began to find the rebirth of other faculties, but
faith in humanity as a whole had been destroyed. Faith in individuals she had when they
had proven their worth, as these three had, but she knew these laughing, good-humoured
crowds about her, these gay lordlings and their women. At, the first cry of 'Witch!' they
would turn and rend her, and would be as laughing and gaily clad at her burning which
they would flock to behold.
The thought set her apart. She looked at the women and marked their clothes,
especially did she observe those of the nobility, with their poise, manner, tricks of speech
and intonation, and all the nice details of their attire, but the ready jest, the quick wit and
swift retort, the spontaneous laughter, made no impression as expressions of character.
Rather did she occupy herself with other questions. For what purpose had these
three sought her out and rescued her? In what manner had they heard of her? These
questions remained unanswered. Thur had promised to tell her all when she reached the
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