len drawers. beside him on a green bank there sat a small
man with a solemn face, and a great bundle of papers of all
colors thrusting forth from the scrip which lay beside him. he
was very richly dressed, with furred robes, a scarlet hood, and
wide hanging sleeves lined with flame-colored silk. a great gold
chain hung round his neck, and rings glittered from every finger
of his hands. on his lap he had a little pile of gold and of
silver, which he was dropping, coin by coin, into a plump pouch
which hung from his girdle.
"may the saints be with you, good travellers!" he shouted, as the
party rode up. "may the four evangelists watch over you! may
the twelve apostles bear you up! may the blessed army of martyrs
direct your feet and lead you to eternal bliss!"
"gramercy for these good wishes!" said sir nigel. "but i
perceive, master alderman, that this man who hangs here is, by
mark of foot, the very robber-knight of whom we have spoken. but
there is a cartel pinned upon his breast, and i pray you,
alleyne, to read it to me."
the dead robber swung slowly to and fro in the wintry wind, a
fixed smile upon his swarthy face, and his bulging eyes still
glaring down the highway of which he had so long been the terror;
on a sheet of parchment upon his breast was printed in rude
characters;
roger pied-bot.
par l'ordre du senechal de castelnau, et de l'echevin de cahors,
servantes fideles du tres vaillant et tres puissant edouard,
prince de galles et d'aquitaine. ne touchez pas, ne coutez
pas, ne depechez pas.
"he took a sorry time in dying," said the man who sat beside him.
"he could stretch one toe to the ground and bear him self up, so
that i thought he would never have done. now at last, however,
he is safely in paradise, and so i may jog on upon my earthly
way." he mounted, as he spoke, a white mule which had been
grazing by the wayside, all gay with fustian of gold and silver
bells, and rode onward with sir nigel's party.
"how know you then that he is in paradise?" asked sir nigel.
"all things are possible to god, but, certes, without a miracle,
i should scarce expect to find the soul of roger clubfoot amongst
the just,"
"i know that he is there because i have just passed him in
there," answered the stranger, rubbing his bejewelled hands
together in placid satisfaction. "it is my holy mission to be a
sompnour or pardoner. i am the unworthy servant and delegate of
him who holds the keys. a contrite heart and ten nobles to holy
mother church may stave off perdition; but he hath a pardon of
the first degree, with a twenty-five livre benison, so that i
doubt if he will so much as feel a twinge of purgatory. i came
up even as the seneschal's archers were tying him up, and i gave
him my fore-word that i would bide with him until he had passed.
there were two leaden crowns among the silver, but i would not
for that stand in the way of his salvation."
"by saint paul!" said sir nigel, "if you have indeed this power
to open and to shut the gates of hope, then indeed you stand high
above mankind. but if you do but claim to have it, and yet have
it not, then it seems to me, master clerk, that you may yourself
find the gate barred when you shall ask admittance."
"small of faith! small of faith!" cried the sompnour. "ah, sir
didymus yet walks upon earth! and yet no words of doubt can
bring anger to mine heart, or a bitter word to my lip, for am i
not a poor unworthy worker in the cause of gentleness and peace?
of all these pardons which i bear every one is stamped and signed
by our holy father, the prop and centre of christendom."
"which of them?" asked sir nigel.
"ha, ha!" cried the pardoner, shaking a jewelled forefinger. thou
wouldst be deep in the secrets of mother church? know then that
i have both in my scrip. those who hold with urban shall have
urban's pardon, while i have clement's for the clementist--or he
who is in doubt may have both, so that come what may he shall be
secure. i pray you that you will buy one, for war is bloody
work, and the end is sudden with little time for thought or
shrift. or you, sir, for you seem to me to be a man who would do
ill to trust to your own merits." this to the alderman of
norwich, who had listened to him with a frowning brow and a
sneering lip.
"when i sell my cloth," quoth he, "he who buys may weigh and feel
and handle. these goods which you sell are not to be seen, nor
is there any proof that you hold them. certes, if mortal man
might control god's mercy, it would be one of a lofty and god-
like life, and not one who is decked out with rings and chains
and silks, like a
pleasure-wench at a kermesse.
"thou wicked and shameless man!" cried the clerk. "dost thou
dare to raise thy voice against the unworthy servant of mother
church?"
"unwor
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