ut that cursed brother john. he hath not left me clothes

enough to make a gallybagger. the double thief hath cozened me

out of my gown."

"stay though, my friend, it was his gown," objected alleyne.

"it boots not. he hath them all--gown, jerkin, hosen and all.

gramercy to him that he left me the shirt and the shoon. i doubt

not that he will be back for them anon."

"but how came this?" asked alleyne, open-eyed with astonishment.

"are those the clothes? for dear charity's sake give them to me.

not the pope himself shall have these from me, though he sent the

whole college of cardinals to ask it. how came it? why, you had

scarce gone ere this loathly john came running back again, and,

when i oped mouth to reproach him, he asked me whether it was

indeed likely that a man of prayer would leave his own godly

raiment in order to take a layman's jerkin. he had, he said, but

gone for a while that i might be the freer for my devotions. on

this i plucked off the gown, and he with much show of haste did

begin to undo his points; but when i threw his frock down he

clipped it up and ran off all untrussed, leaving me in this sorry

plight. he laughed so the while, like a great croaking frog,

that i might have caught him had my breath not been as short as

his legs were long."

the young man listened to this tale of wrong with all the

seriousness that he could maintain; but at the sight of the pursy

red-faced man and the dignity with which he bore him, the

laughter came so thick upon him that he had to lean up against a

tree-trunk. the fuller looked sadly and gravely at him; but

finding that he still laughed, he bowed with much mock politeness

and stalked onwards in his borrowed clothes. alleyne watched him

until he was small in the distance, and then, wiping the tears

from his eyes, he set off briskly once more upon his journey.

chapter iv.

how the bailiff of southampton slew the two masterless men.

the road along which he travelled was scarce as populous as most

other roads in the kingdom, and far less so than those which lie

between the larger towns. yet from time to time alleyne met

other wayfarers, and more than once was overtaken by strings of

pack mules and horsemen journeying in the same direction as

himself. once a begging friar came limping along in a brown

habit, imploring in a most dolorous voice to give him a single

groat to buy bread wherewith to save himself from impending

death. alleyne passed him swiftly by, for he had learned from

the monks to have no love for the wandering friars, and, besides,

there was a great half-gnawed mutton bone sticking out of his

pouch to prove him a liar. swiftly as he went, however, he could

not escape the curse of the four blessed evangelists which the

mendicant howled behind him. so dreadful are his execrations

that the frightened lad thrust his fingers into his ear-holes,

and ran until the fellow was but a brown smirch upon the yellow

road.

further on, at the edge of the woodland, he came upon a chapman

and his wife, who sat upon a fallen tree. he had put his pack

down as a table, and the two of them were devouring a great

pasty, and washing it down with some drink from a stone jar. the

chapman broke a rough jest as he passed, and the woman called

shrilly to alleyne to come and join them, on which the man,

turning suddenly from mirth to wrath, began to belabor her with

his cudgel. alleyne hastened on, lest he make more mischief, and

his heart was heavy as lead within him. look where he would, he

seemed to see nothing but injustice and violence and the

hardness of man to man.

but even as he brooded sadly over it and pined for the sweet

peace of the abbey, he came on an open space dotted with holly

bushes, where was the strangest sight that he had yet chanced

upon. near to the pathway lay a long clump of greenery, and from

behind this there stuck straight up into the air four human legs

clad in parti-colored hosen, yellow and black. strangest of all

was when a brisk tune struck suddenly up and the four legs began

to kick and twitter in time to the music. walking on tiptoe

round the bushes, he stood in amazement to see two men bounding

about on their heads, while they played, the one a viol and the

other a pipe, as merrily and as truly as though they were seated

in a choir. alleyne crossed himself as he gazed at this

unnatural sight, and could scarce hold his ground with a steady

face, when the two dancers, catching sight of him, came bouncing

in his direction. a spear's length from him, they each threw a

somersault into the air, and came down upon their feet with

smirking faces and their hands over their hearts.

"a guerdon--a guerdon, my knight of the staring eyes!" cried one.

"a gift, my prince!" shouted the other. "any trifle will serve--

a purse of gol