“Who are you and what are you doing here?” demanded Teobaldo of the
monk.
“I am,” he answered, “a humble servant of God, a monk of the monastery
of Montagut.”
“But”--interrupted the baron. “Montagut? Is it not a seigniory?”
“It was,” replied the monk, “a long time ago. Its last lord, the story
goes, was carried off by the Devil, and as he left no heir to succeed
him in the fief, the Sovereign Counts granted his estate to the monks of
our order, who have been here for a matter of from one hundred to one
hundred and twenty years. And you--who are you?”
“I”--stammered the Baron of Fortcastell, after a long moment of silence,
“I am--a miserable sinner, who, repenting of his misdeeds, comes to make
confession to your abbot and beg him for admittance into the bosom of
his faith.”