ledged himself that there was native firmness and

strength underlying his gentle, monk-bred ways.

the youth was not clad in monastic garb, but in lay attire,

though his jerkin, cloak and hose were all of a sombre hue, as

befitted one who dwelt in sacred precincts. a broad leather

strap hanging from his shoulder supported a scrip or satchel such

as travellers were wont to carry. in one hand he grasped a thick

staff pointed and shod with metal, while in the other he held his

coif or bonnet, which bore in its front a broad pewter medal

stamped with the image of our lady of rocamadour.

"art ready, then, fair son?" said the abbot. "this is indeed a

day of comings and of going. it is strange that in one twelve

hours the abbey should have cast off its foulest weed and should

now lose what we are fain to look upon as our choicest blossom."

"you speak too kindly, father," the youth answered. "if i had my

will i should never go forth, but should end my days here in

beaulieu. it hath been my home as far back as my mind can carry

me, and it is a sore thing for me to have to leave it."

"life brings many a cross," said the abbot gently. "who is

without them? your going forth is a grief to us as well as to

yourself. but there is no help. i had given my foreword and

sacred promise to your father, edric the franklin, that at the

age of twenty you should be sent out into the world to see for

yourself how you liked the savor of it. seat thee upon the

settle, alleyne, for you may need rest ere long."

the youth sat down as directed, but reluctantly and with

diffidence. the abbot stood by the narrow window, and his long

black shadow fell slantwise across the rush-strewn floor.

"twenty years ago," he said, "your father, the franklin of

minstead, died, leaving to the abbey three hides of rich land in

the hundred of malwood, and leaving to us also his infant son on

condition that we should rear him until he came to man's estate.

this he did partly because your mother was dead, and partly

because your elder brother, now socman of minstead, had already

given sign of that fierce and rude nature which would make him no

fit companion for you. it was his desire and request, however,

that you should not remain in the cloisters, but should at a ripe

age return into the world."

"but, father," interrupted the young man "it is surely true that

i am already advanced several degrees in clerkship?"

"yes, fair son, but not so far as to bar you from the garb you

now wear or the life which you must now lead. you have been

porter?"

"yes, father."

"exorcist?"

"yes, father."

"reader?"

"yes, father."

"acolyte?"

"but have sworn no vow of constancy or chastity?"

"no, father."

"then you are free to follow a worldly life. but let me hear,

ere you start, what gifts you take away with you from beaulieu?

some i already know. there is the playing of the citole and the

rebeck. our choir will be dumb without you. you carve too?"

the youth's pale face flushed with the pride of the skilled

workman. "yes, holy father," he answered. "thanks to good

brother bartholomew, i carve in wood and in ivory, and can do

something also in silver and in bronze. from brother francis i

have learned to paint on vellum, on glass, and on metal, with a

knowledge of those pigments and essences which can preserve the

color against damp or a biting air. brother luke hath given me

some skill in damask work, and in the enamelling of shrines,

tabernacles, diptychs and triptychs. for the rest, i know a

little of the making of covers, the cutting of precious stones,

and the fashioning of instruments."

"a goodly list, truly," cried the superior with a smile. "what

clerk of cambrig or of oxenford could say as much? but of thy

reading--hast not so much to show there, i fear?"

"no, father, it hath been slight enough. yet, thanks to our good

chancellor, i am not wholly unlettered. i have read ockham,

bradwardine, and other of the schoolmen, together with the

learned duns scotus and the book of the holy aquinas."

"but of the things of this world, what have you gathered from

your reading? from this high window you may catch a glimpse over

the wooden point and the smoke of bucklershard of the mouth of

the exe, and the shining sea. now, i pray you alleyne, if a man

were to take a ship and spread sail across yonder waters, where

might he hope to arrive?"

the youth pondered, and drew a plan amongst the rushes with the

point of his staff. "holy father," said he, "he would come upon

those parts of france which are held by the king's majesty. but

if he trended to the south he might reach spain and the barbary

states. to his north would be flanders and the country of the

eastlanders and of the muscovites."

"true. and how if, after reaching