u freely, and i trow it is time what you answered me.

let things be plat and plain between us. i am a man who shoots

straight at his mark. you saw the things i had with me at yonder

hostel: name which you will, save only the box of rose-colored

sugar which i take to the lady loring, and you shall have it if

you will but come with me to france."

"nay," said alleyne, "i would gladly come with ye to france or

where else ye will, just to list to your talk, and because ye are

the only two friends that i have in the whole wide world outside

of the cloisters; but, indeed, it may not be, for my duty is

towards my brother, seeing that father and mother are dead, and

he my elder. besides, when ye talk of taking me to france, ye do

not conceive how useless i should be to you, seeing that neither

by training nor by nature am i fitted for the wars, and there

seems to be nought but strife in those parts."

"that comes from my fool's talk," cried the archer; "for being a

man of no learning myself, my tongue turns to blades and targets,

even as my hand does. know then that for every parchment in

england there are twenty in france. for every statue, cut gem,

shrine, carven screen, or what else might please the eye of a

learned clerk, there are a good hundred to our one. at the

spoiling of carcasonne i have seen chambers stored with writing,

though not one man in our company could read them. again, in

arlis and nimes, and other towns that i could name, there are the

great arches and fortalices still standing which were built of

old by giant men who came from the south. can i not see by your

brightened eye how you would love to look upon these things?

come then with me, and, by these ten finger-bones! there is not

one of them which you shall not see."

"i should indeed love to look upon them," alleyne answered; "but

i have come from beaulieu for a purpose, and i must be true to my

service, even as thou art true to thine."

"bethink you again, mon ami," quoth aylward, "that you might do

much good yonder, since there are three hundred men in the

company, and none who has ever a word of grace for them, and yet

the virgin knows that there was never a set of men who were in

more need of it. sickerly the one duty may balance the other.

your brother hath done without you this many a year, and, as i

gather, he hath never walked as far as beaulieu to see you during

all that time, so he cannot be in any great need of you."

"besides," said john, "the socman of minstead is a by-word

through the forest, from bramshaw hill to holmesley walk. he is

a drunken, brawling, perilous churl, as you may find to your

cost."

"the more reason that i should strive to mend him," quoth

alleyne. "there is no need to urge me, friends, for my own

wishes would draw me to france, and it would be a joy to me if i

could go with you. but indeed and indeed it cannot be, so here i

take my leave of you, for yonder square tower amongst the trees

upon the right must surely be the church of minstead, and i may

reach it by this path through the woods."

"well, god be with thee, lad!" cried the archer, pressing alleyne

to his heart. "i am quick to love, and quick to hate and 'fore

god i am loth to part."

"would it not be well," said john, "that we should wait here, and

see what manner of greeting you have from your brother. you may

prove to be as welcome as the king's purveyor to the village

dame."

"nay, nay," he answered; "ye must not bide for me, for where i go

i stay."

"yet it may be as well that you should know whither we go," said

the archer. "we shall now journey south through the woods until

we come out upon the christchurch road, and so onwards, hoping

to-night to reach the castle of sir william montacute, earl of

salisbury, of which sir nigel loring is constable. there we

shall bide, and it is like enough that for a month or more you

may find us there, ere we are ready for our viage back to

france."

it was hard indeed for alleyne to break away from these two new

but hearty friends, and so strong was the combat between his

conscience and his inclinations that he dared not look round,

lest his resolution should slip away from him. it was not until

he was deep among the tree trunks that he cast a glance

backwards, when he found that he could still see them through the

branches on the road above him. the archer was standing with

folded arms, his bow jutting from over his shoulder, and the sun

gleaming brightly upon his head-piece and the links of his

chain-mail. beside him stood his giant recruit, still clad in

the home-spun and ill-fitting garments of the fuller of

lymington, with arms and legs shooting out of his scanty garb.

even as alleyne watched them they turned upon their heels and

plodded off together upon their way.

chapter ix.

how st