You can arrange with them to take up their station on the road, so that you can, if needs be, find them." It was with a sigh that Roger flung himself into the saddle.

It was not the horse on which he had ridden there, but a strong, shaggy pony.
"He does not look much," one of the men said, "but there is no better horse, of the sort, in the country.

He has both speed and bottom, and can carry you up or down hill, and is as sure-footed as a goat." Roger had assented to the change, for his own horse was as unlike one that a monk would have bestrode as could be well imagined.

He had obtained a stout staff, to which the village smith had added two or three iron rings at each end, rendering it a formidable weapon, indeed, in such hands.
"It reminds me of our start for Dunbar, master," he said.

"One might have a worse weapon than this;" and he swung it round his head, in quarterstaff fashion; "still, I prefer a mace." "That staff will do just as well, Roger.