guileless. Children and dogs would sit companionably on the stepsof the north porch with him in summer weather, and do all thetalking necessary to such a friendship, after their own fashion,while he listened. Many a mother in the Foregate, content to seeher young consorting so familiarly with a respectable churchman,had wondered why Cynric had never married and had children of hisown, since plainly he had an affinity for them. It could not bebecause of his office of verger, for there were still plenty ofmarried priests scattered through the parishes of the shire, and noone thought any wrong of them. The new order of clerics withoutwomen was only just beginning to make headway here, no one, noteven bishops, had yet begun to look sidewise at those of the oldschool who did not conform. Monks were monks, and had made theirchoice, but surely the secular clergy could still be secularwithout reproach.

“He had no living kin?” asked Cadfael. For of allmen remaining behind, Cynric would know.

“None.”

“He was newly priest here,” said Cadfael,“when I came first from Woodstock with AbbotHeribert—Prior Heribert he was then, for Abbot Godefrid wasstill alive. You came, as I remember, a year or two later.You’re a younger man than I. You and I between us could puttogether a history of cowl and cassock here in the Foregate allthis long while. It would make a very handsome memorial to FatherAdam. No falling out, no falling off. He had his everlastingpenitents, but that was his glory, that they always came back. Theycould not do without him. And he kept his thread that drew themback, whether they would or no.”

“So he did,” said Cynric, and clipped the lastblackened wick with a snap of his finger-nails, and straightenedthe candlesticks on the parish altar, standing back a pace withnarrowed lids to check that they stood correct as soldiers onguard.

His throat creaked, forcing unwilling chords to flex, when heused more words. The strings protested now. “Is there a manin mind?”