"Travel-stains gained in such fashion, are more to be desired than silks and fine linen.

I would I could go to rest this night knowing I had accomplished as much." "Go and have thy bath, boy," said the Bishop.

"This will give my monks time to tickle, catch, and cook, trout for thy supper! Ah, thou young rascal! But that field is _Corban_, remember.

Sup well, rest well, and the blessing of the Lord be with thee." The brown riding-suit vanished through the archway.
Father Benedict's lean hand pulled the door to.
The Bishop and the Knight were once more alone..