CHAPTER XXVII. HOW ROGER CLUB-FOOT WAS PASSED INTO PARADISE.

him.Hewasveryrichlydressed,withfurredrobes,ascarlethood,andwidehangingsleeveslinedwithflame-coloredsilk.Agreatgoldchainhungroundhisneck,andringsglitteredfromeveryfingerofhishands.Onhislaphehadalittlepileofgoldandofsilver,whichhewasdropping,coinbycoin,intoaplumppouchwhichhungfromhisgirdle. “Maythesaintsbewithyou,goodtravellers!”heshouted,asthepartyrodeup.“MaythefourEvangelistswatchoveryou!MaythetwelveApostlesbearyouup!Maytheblessedarmyofmartyrsdirectyourfeetandleadyoutoeternalbliss!” “Gramercyforthesegoodwishes!”saidSirNigel.“ButIperceive,masteralderman,thatthismanwhohangshereis,bymarkoffoot,theveryrobber-knightofwhomwehavespoken.Butthereisacartelpinneduponhisbreast,andIprayyou,Alleyne,toreadittome.” Thedeadrobberswungslowlytoandfrointhewintrywind,afixedsmileuponhisswarthyface,andhisbulgingeyesstillglaringdownthehighwayofwhichhehadsolongbeentheterroronasheetofparchmentuponhisbreastwasprintedinrudecharacters ROGERPIED-BOT. Parl'ordreduSenechalde Castelnau,etdel'Echevinde Cahors,servantesfidelesdu tresvaillantettrespuissant Edouard,PrincedeGalleset d'Aquitaine. Netouchezpas, Necoutezpas, Nedepechezpas. “Hetookasorrytimeindying,”saidthemanwhosatbesidehim.“Hecouldstretchonetoetothegroundandbearhimselfup,sothatIthoughthewouldneverhavedone.Nowatlast,however,heissafelyinparadise,andsoImayjogonuponmyearthlyway.”Hemounted,ashespoke,awhitemulewhichhadbeengrazingbythewayside,allgaywithfustianofgoldandsilverbells,androdeonwardwithSirNigel'sparty. “Howknowyouthenthatheisinparadise?”askedSirNigel.“AllthingsarepossibletoGod,but,certes,withoutamiracle,IshouldscarceexpecttofindthesoulofRogerClubfootamongstthejust.” “IknowthatheistherebecauseIhavejustpassedhiminthere,”answeredthestranger,rubbinghisbejewelledhandstogetherinplacidsatisfaction.“Itismyholymissiontobeasompnourorpardoner.Iamtheunworthyservantanddelegateofhimwhoholdsthekeys.AcontriteheartandtennoblestoholymotherChurchmaystaveoffperditionbuthehathapardonofthefirstdegree,withatwenty-fivelivrebenison,sothatIdoubtifhewillsomuchasfeelatwingeofpurgatory.Icameupevenastheseneschal'sarchersweretyinghimup,andIgavehimmyfore-wordthatIwouldbidewithhimuntilhehadpassed.Thereweretwoleadencrownsamongthesilver,butIwouldnotforthatstandinthewayofhissalvation.” “BySaintPaul!”saidSirNigel,“ifyouhaveindeedthispowertoopenandtoshutthegatesofhope,thenindeedyoustandhighabovemankind.Butifyoudobutclaimtohaveit,andyethaveitnot,thenitseemstome,masterclerk,thatyoumayyourselffindthegatebarredwhenyoushallaskadmittance.” “Smalloffaith!Smalloffaith!”criedthesompnour.“Ah,SirDidymusyetwalksuponearth!Andyetnowordsofdoubtcanbringangertomineheart,orabitterwordtomylip,foramInotapoorunworthyworkerinthecauseofgentlenessandpeace?OfallthesepardonswhichIbeareveryoneisstampedandsignedbyourholyfather,thepropandcentreofChristendom.” “Whichofthem?”askedSirNigel. “Ha,ha!”criedthepardoner,shakingajewelledforefinger.“ThouwouldstbedeepinthesecretsofmotherChurch?KnowthenthatIhavebothinmyscrip.ThosewhoholdwithUrbanshallhaveUrban'spardon,whileIhaveClement'sfortheClementist—orhewhoisindoubtmayhav