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THREE:"Stephen Holgrave," said the monk, "let not one hair of his head be meddled with! And now, Wat Tyler, I enjoin thee to clear the fortress of those who have forgotten their duty��but slay not. I now go to the chapel, where I shall remain a short time in prayer." The monk then waved his hand, and drew his cowl closely over his brow, to hide from his gaze the evidences of debauchery he encountered at every step in his way to the chapel. The gutters and kennels ran with wine, and some, for want of vessels, were lying prostrate, lapping up the flowing beverage��some, entirely overpowered, were stretched across the doorways, and in the court-yards, serving as seats to others, who were, with wild oaths, passing round the goblet.In the mean time, Holgrave had conducted those in charge of the horses to an old barn at a short distance, and then returned to the church-yard; and when the deceased was lowered into the grave, the yeoman knelt at the head, the galleyman and Harvey at each side, and Father John, standing at the foot, pronounced, in a low but audible voice, the prayers usual on interment. The moonbeams fell on the church, so as to cast a far shadow upon the ground that lay towards the abbey; the foot of the grave was within the shadow, so that Father John's figure was little revealed; and the branches of a tree (against whose broad trunk Black Jack leant) concealed Harvey, and cast a trembling shadow upon that side; but the light streamed full upon Holgrave and upon the galleyman, who was kneeling at his right hand.