" "Hush, hush," he cried, "speak no ill of churchmen. {25a} What
satisfaction have you for the Church?" "Here it is," said she and handed
him a gold trinket. "You must repent, and your penance will be to watch
at my bedside to-night," he said with a leer. Hereupon four other
shavelings entered, dragging before the confessor a poor wretch, who came
about as willingly as he would to the gallows. "Here's for you a rogue,"
cried one of the four, "who must do penance for disclosing the secrets of
the Catholic Church." "What!" exclaimed the confessor, looking towards a
dark cell near at hand: "but come, villain, confess what thou hast
said?" "Indeed," began the poor fellow, "a neighbour asked me whether I
had seen the souls that were groaning underneath the altar on All-souls'
day; and I said I had heard the voice, but had seen nothing." "So,
sirrah, come now, tell everything." "I said moreover," he continued,
"that I had heard that you were playing tricks on us unlettered hinds,
that, instead of souls, there was nothing but crabs making a row under
the carpet." "Oh, thou hell-hound! cursed knave!" cried the confessor,
"but, proceed, mastiff.
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