I come, friends, of a noble house, and I cannot bring myself to touch this money, even though it be to save me from the grave."
"Alas! father," said Alleyne, "how then can we be of help to thee?"
"I had sat down here to die," quoth the palmer; "but for many years I have carried in my wallet these precious things which you see set forth now before me.
It were sin, thought I, that my secret should perish with me.
I shall therefore sell these things to the first worthy passers-by, and from them I shall have money enough to take me to the shrine of Our Lady at Rocamadour, where I hope to lay these old bones."
"What are these treasures, then, father?" asked Hordle John.
"I can but see an old rusty nail, with bits of stone and slips of wood."
"My friend," answered the palmer, "not all the money that is in this country could pay a just price for these wares of mine.
This nail," he continued, pulling off his hat and turning up his sightless orbs, "is one of those wherewith man's salvation was secured.
I had it, together with this piece of the true rood, from the five-and-twentieth descendant of Joseph of Arimathea, who still lives in Jerusalem alive and well, though latterly much afflicted by boils.
Aye, you may well cross yourselves, and I beg that you will not breathe upon it or touch it with your fingers."
"And the wood and stone, holy father?" asked Alleyne, with bated breath, as he stared awe-struck at his precious relics.
"This cantle of wood is from the true cross, this other from Noah his ark, and the third is from the door-post of the temple of the wise King Solomon.
This stone was thrown at the sainted Stephen, and the other two are from the Tower of Babel.
Here, too, is part of Aaron's rod, and a lock of hair from Elisha the prophet."
"But, father," quoth Alleyne, "the holy Elisha was bald, which brought down upon him the revilements of the wicked children."
"It is very true that he had not much hair," said the palmer quickly, "and it is this which makes this relic so exceeding precious.
Take now your choice of these, my worthy gentlemen, and pay such a price as your consciences will suffer you to offer; for I am not a chapman nor a huckster, and I would never part with them, did I not know that I am very near to my reward."
"Aylward," said Alleyne excitedly, "This is such a chance as few folk have twice in one life.
The nail I must have, and I will give it to the abbey of Beaulieu, so that all the folk in England may go thither to wonder and to pray."
"And I will have the stone from the temple," cried Hordle John.
"What would not my old mother give to have it hung over her bed?"
"And I will have Aaron's rod," quoth Aylward. "I have but five florins in the world, and here are four of them."
"Here are three more," said John.
"And here are five more," added Alleyne.
"Holy father, I hand you twelve florins, which is all that we can give, though we well know how poor a pay it is for the wondrous things which you sell us."
"Down, pride, down!" cried the pilgrim, still beating upon his chest.
"Can I not bend myself then to take this sorry sum which is offered me for that which has cost me the labors of a life.
Give me the dross!
Here are the precious relics, and, oh, I pray you that you will handle them softly and with reverence, else had I rather left my unworthy bones here by the wayside."
With doffed caps and eager hands, the comrades took their new and precious possessions, and pressed onwards upon their journey, leaving the aged palmer still seated under the cherry-tree.
They rode in silence, each with his treasure in his hand, glancing at it from time to time, and scarce able to believe that chance had made them sole owners of relics of such holiness and worth that every abbey and church in Christendom would have bid eagerly for their possession.
So they journeyed, full of this good fortune, until opposite the town of Le Mas, where John's horse cast a shoe, and they were glad to find a wayside smith who might set the matter to rights.
To him Aylward narrated the good hap which had befallen them; but the smith, when his eyes lit upon the relics, leaned up against his anvil and laughed, with his hand to his side, until the tears hopped down his sooty cheeks.
"Why, masters," quoth he, "this man is a coquillart, or seller of false relics, and was here in the smithy not two hours ago.
This nail that he hath sold you was taken from my nail-box, and as to the wood and the stones, you will see a heap of both outside from which he hath filled his scrip."
"Nay, nay," cried Alleyne, "this was a holy man who had journeyed to Jerusalem, and acquired a dropsy by running from the house of Pilate to the Mount of Olives,"
"I know not about that," said the smith; "but I know that a man with a gray palmer's hat and gown was here no very long time ago, and that he sat on yonder stump and ate a cold pullet and drank a flask of wine.
Then he begged from me one of my nails, and filling his scrip with stones, he went upon his way.
Look at these nails, and see if they are not the same as that which he has sold you."
"Now may God save us!" cried Alleyne, all aghast.
"Is there no end then to the wickedness of humankind?
He so humble, so aged, so loth to take our money--and yet a villain and a cheat.
Whom can we trust or believe in?"
"I will after him," said Aylward, flinging himself into the saddle. "Come, Alleyne, we may catch him ere John's horse be shod."
Away they galloped together, and ere long they saw the old gray palmer walking slowly along in front of them.
He turned, however, at the sound of their hoofs, and it was clear that his blindness was a cheat like all the rest of him, for he ran swiftly through a field and so into a wood, where none could follow him.
They hurled their relics after him, and so rode back to the blacksmith's the poorer both in pocket and in faith.
Chapter XXVII.
HOW RODGER CLUB-FOOT WAS PASSED INTO PARADISE.