They looked at each other, and, as though by common consent, turned and rode away, crossing themselves also.

In truth, they had no stomach for the curse of the Church when it was thundered forth from the lips of such a monk as Sir Andrew Arnold, who, they knew well, had been one of the greatest and holiest warriors of his generation, and, so said rumour, was a white wizard to boot with all the magic of the East at his command.
"Your men have gone, Sir John," said the old priest; "will you follow them or will you enter ?" Now fear drove out the knight's rage and he spoke in another voice.
"Sir Andrew, why do you bring all these wrongs upon me?
My boy is dead at the hand of Hugh de Cressi, your godson, and he has robbed me of my daughter, whom I have affianced to a better and a nobler man.

Now you give her sanctuary and threaten me with the curse of the Church because I would claim her, my own flesh and blood; ay, and my heiress too to-day.

Tell me, as one man to another, why do you do these things ?" "And tell me, Sir John Clavering, why for the sake of pelf and of honours that you will never harvest do you seek to part those who love each other and whom God has willed to bring together?
Why would you sell your child to a gilded knave whom she hates?
Nay, stop me not.

I'd call him that and more to his face and none have ever known me lie.