Brother Denis the hospitaller, who knew every soul who came within thegates, said regretfully: “I grieve to have to tell you, but quite surely they neverarrived here. We have had no such party. But come with me and speak with everyfugitive we are still sheltering here in the guest-hall, and the few in theinfirmary, in case they can tell you anything of use. For of course we knewnothing of these young people until now, and therefore have not asked aboutthem.”

“Or again it may be,” suggested Brother Matthew the cellarer, “that theyknew of some kinsman or tenant or old servant here in the town, and thereforehave passed us by, and are now within the walls.”

“It is possible,” agreed Herward, brightening a little. “But I think SisterHilaria would prefer to bring them here, to our own order for protection.”

“If there are none here who can help,” said the abbot briskly, “the nextmove is certainly to consult the sheriff. He will know who has been receivedwithin the town. You did mention, brother, that the uncle of this young pair isnewly come home from Palestine. There are channels he may use to approach theauthorities here. How is it that he is not pursuing this enquiry in person? Forsurely he cannot cast the blame all on you.”

Brother Herward heaved a great sigh that first stiffened his little frame,and then let it collapse dispiritedly into limpness. “The uncle is a knight ofAngevin blood—they are his sister’s children—by name Laurence d’Angers. Newlyhome from the Crusade he is, but to Gloucester, to join the forces of theempress. It is also true that he did not arrive there until afterthis onslaught, and bears no blame for it, as he took no part in it. But no manfrom Gloucester dare show his face now in our city. The king is there with agreat force, and an angry man, like every ruined burgess of the town. Thesearch for these children is deputed to our house, perforce. Nevertheless, thisis a quest for creatures absolutely innocent, and I shall so present it to thesheriff.”