Thrusting his hand into the hermit's bosom,
the long-coveted parchment was in his grasp, and in a twinkling it was
conveyed to his own.
"How now!" cried the baron, "wherefore in such haste? I trow the deed is
ours!"
With a great show of obedience and respect he drew the parchment again
from beneath his robe, and holding it cautiously beside him, exclaimed--
"My lord, ere this be read is it not prudent that we convey the traitor
to the dungeon, lest by his subtilty the writing be wrested from our
grasp?"
The hermit, yet held in close custody of the guards, cried with a loud
voice--
"Who is the traitor let the walls of my cell bear witness, when they
heard him offer a heavy bribe that this, the only evidence to the right
of the Fitz-Eustace, might be destroyed!"
"Fatherest thou the accursed progeny of thine avarice upon me?" cried
the dean, apparently indignant at so unjust an accusation.
"Give me the roll," said the constable, "and we will confront him by
what he would have withheld. After we have made our own right secure, we
adjudge him to his deserts."
The dean was obliged, however unwillingly, to obey; handing forward the
parchment, which Roger de Lacy unfolded in the presence of the hermit.
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