“I have been working him even now to abandon her,” said Malvoisin; “but still, are there grounds enough to condemn this Rebecca for sorcery?⁠—Will not the Grand Master change his mind when he sees that the proofs are so weak?”

“They must be strengthened, Albert,” replied Mont-Fitchet, “they must be strengthened. Dost thou understand me?”

“I do,” said the Preceptor, “nor do I scruple to do aught for advancement of the Order⁠—but there is little time to find engines fitting.”

“Malvoisin, they must be found,” said Conrade; “well will it advantage both the Order and thee. This Templestowe is a poor Preceptory⁠—that of Maison-Dieu is worth double its value⁠—thou knowest my interest with our old Chief⁠—find those who can carry this matter through, and thou art Preceptor of Maison-Dieu in the fertile Kent⁠—How sayst thou?”