famous doctor of law in dark and sober garb. Below these sat the high cellarer of Emmet, and others chief among the brethren.

Prior Vincent entertains the Sheriff of Nottingham and the man of law at the Priory.

Jest and laughter passed around, and all was as merry as merry could be. The weazened face of the man of law was twisted into a wrinkled smile, for in his pouch were fourscore golden angels that the Prior had paid him in fee for the case betwixt him and Sir Richard of the Lea. The learned doctor had been paid beforehand, for he had not overmuch trust in the holy Vincent of Emmet.

Quoth the Sheriff of Nottingham, “But art thou sure, Sir Prior, that thou hast the lands so safe?”

“Ay, marry,” said Prior Vincent, smacking his lips after a deep draught of wine; “I have kept a close watch upon him, albeit he was unawares of the same, and I know right well that he hath no money to pay me withal.”

“Ay, true,” said the man of law in a dry, husky voice, “his land is surely forfeit if he cometh not to pay; but, Sir Prior, thou must get a release beneath his sign manual, or else thou canst not help to hold the land without trouble from him.”

“Yea,” said the Prior, “so thou hast told me ere now, but I know that this knight is so poor that he will gladly sign away his lands for two hundred pounds of hard money.”

Then up spake the high cellarer: “Methinks it is a shame to so drive a misfortunate knight to the ditch. I think it sorrow that the noblest estate in Derbyshire should so pass away from him for a paltry five hundred pounds. Truly, I—”

“How now,” broke in the Prior, in a quivering voice, his eyes glistening and his cheeks red with anger, “dost thou prate to my very beard, sirrah? By Saint Hubert, thou hadst best save thy breath to cool thy pottage, else it may scald thy mouth.”

“Nay,” said the man of law, smoothly, “I dare swear this same knight will never come to settlement this day, but will prove recreant. Nevertheless, we will seek some means to gain his lands from him, so never fear.”

But even as the doctor spoke there came a sudden clatter of horses’ hoofs and a jingle of iron mail in the courtyard below. Then up spake the Prior, and called upon one of the brethren that sat below the salt, and bade him look out of the window and see who was below, albeit he knew right well it could be none but Sir Richard.

So the brother arose and went and looked, and he said, “I see below a score of stout men-at-arms and a knight just dismounting from his horse. He is dressed in long robes of gray which, methinks, are of poor seeming; but the horse he rideth upon hath the richest coursing that ever I saw. The Knight dismounts and they come this way, and are even now below in the great hall.”

“Lo, see ye there now,” quoth Prior Vincent. “Here ye have a knight with so lean a purse as scarce to buy him a crust of bread to munch, yet he keeps a band of retainers, and puts rich trappings upon his horse’s hide, whilst his own back goeth bare. Is it not well that such men should be brought low?”

“But art thou sure,” said the little doctor, tremulously, “that this knight will do us no harm? Such as he are fierce when crossed, and he hath a band of naughty men at his heels. Mayhap thou hadst better give an extension of his debt.” Thus he spake, for he was afraid Sir Richard might do him a harm.

“Thou needst not fear,” said the Prior, looking down at the little man beside him. “This knight is gentle, and would as soon think of harming an old woman as thee.”

As the Prior finished, a door at the lower end of the refectory swung open, and in came Sir Richard, with folded hands and head bowed upon his breast. Thus humbly he walked slowly up the hall, whilst his men-at-arms stood about the door. When he had come to where the Prior sat, he knelt upon one knee. “Save and keep thee, Sir Prior,“ said he; ”I am come to keep my day.”

Sir Richard of the Lea begs mercy of the Prior of Emmet.

Then the first word that the Prior