He ran once, but the long gown clogged him so that he slowed down into a shambling walk, and finally plumped into the heather once more.
"Young friend," said he, when Alleyne was abreast of him, "I fear from thy garb that thou canst know little of the Abbey of Beaulieu." "Then you are in error, friend," the clerk answered, "for I have spent all my days within its walls." "Hast so indeed ?" cried he.

"Then perhaps canst tell me the name of a great loathly lump of a brother wi' freckled face an' a hand like a spade.

His eyes were black an' his hair was red an' his voice like the parish bull.

I trow that there cannot be two alike in the same cloisters." "That surely can be no other than brother John," said Alleyne.

"I trust he has done you no wrong, that you should be so hot against him." "Wrong, quotha ?" cried the other, jumping out of the heather.