“And of Prior Robert!” whispered Brother John in Cadfael’sear.

“It certainly seems that she has shown us singular favour,”admitted Abbot Heribert.

“Then, Father, have I your leave to send Brother Columbanus with asafe escort to Holywell? This very day?”

“Do so,” said the abbot, “with the prayers of us all, andmay he return as Saint Winifred’s own messenger, hale andgrateful.”

The deranged man, still wandering in mind and communing with himself inincoherent ravings, was led away out of the gatehouse on the first stage of hisjourney immediately after the midday meal, mounted on a mule, with a high,cradling saddle to give him some security from falling, in case the violent fittook him again, and with Brother Jerome and a brawny lay-brother one on eitherside, to support him at need. Columbanus looked about him with wide, pathetic,childlike eyes, and seemed to know nobody, though he went submissively andtrustfully where he was led.

“I could have done with a nice little trip into Wales,” saidBrother John wistfully, looking after them as they rounded the corner andvanished towards the bridge over the Severn. “But I probablyshouldn’t have seen the right visions. Jerome will do the jobbetter.”

“Boy,” said Brother Cadfael tolerantly, “you become moreof an unbeliever every day.”

“Not a bit of it! I’m as willing to believe in the girl’ssanctity and miracles as any man. We know the saints have power to help andbless, and I’ll believe they have the goodwill, too. But when it’sPrior Robert’s faithful hound who has the dream, you’re asking meto believe in his sanctity, not hers! And in any case, isn’t herfavour glory enough? I don’t see why they should want to dig up the poorlady’s dust. It seems like charnel-house business to me, not churchbusiness. And you think exactly the same,” he said firmly, and stared outhis elder, eye to eye.