Айвенго

Chapter 42

           —"Abarleyloafandapitcherofwater—thatTHEYgaveme,theniggardlytraitors,whommyfather,andImyself,hadenriched,whentheirbestresourcesweretheflitchesofbaconandmeasuresofcorn,outofwhichtheywheedledpoorserfsandbondsmen,inexchangefortheirprayers—thenestoffoulungratefulvipers—barleybreadandditchwatertosuchapatronasIhadbeen!Iwillsmokethemoutoftheirnest,thoughIbeexcommunicated!"

           "But,inthenameofOurLady,nobleAthelstane,"saidCedric,graspingthehandofhisfriend,"howdidstthouescapethisimminentdanger—didtheirheartsrelent?"

           "Didtheirheartsrelent!"echoedAthelstane.—"Dorocksmeltwiththesun?Ishouldhavebeentherestill,hadnotsomestirintheConvent,whichIfindwastheirprocessionhitherwardtoeatmyfuneralfeast,whentheywellknewhowandwhereIhadbeenburiedalive,summonedtheswarmoutoftheirhive.Iheardthemdroningouttheirdeath-psalms,littlejudgingtheyweresunginrespectformysoulbythosewhowerethusfamishingmybody.Theywent,however,andIwaitedlongforfood—nowonder—thegoutySacristanwaseventoobusywithhisownprovendertomindmine.Atlengthdownhecame,withanunstablestepandastrongflavourofwineandspicesabouthisperson.Goodcheerhadopenedhisheart,forheleftmeanookofpastyandaflaskofwine,insteadofmyformerfare.

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