ordle John, "I have prayed so much during the last
two months, not only during the day, but at matins, lauds, and the like,
when I could scarce keep my head upon my shoulders for nodding, that I
feel that I have somewhat over-prayed myself."

"How can a man have too much religion?" cried Alleyne earnestly. "It is
the one thing that availeth. A man is but a beast as he lives from day
to day, eating and drinking, breathing and sleeping. It is only when
he raises himself, and concerns himself with the immortal spirit within
him, that he becomes in very truth a man. Bethink ye how sad a thing
it would be that the blood of the Redeemer should be spilled to no
purpose."

"Bless the lad, if he doth not blush like any girl, and yet preach like
the whole College of Cardinals," cried the archer.

"In truth I blush that any one so weak and so unworthy as I should
try to teach another that which he finds it so passing hard to follow
himself."

"Prettily said, mon garcon. Touching that same slaying of the Redeemer,
it was a bad business. A good padre in France read to us from a scroll
the whole truth of the matter. The soldiers came upon him in the garden.
In truth, these Apostles of His may have been holy men, but they were of
no great account as men-at-arms. There was one, indeed, Sir Peter, who
smote out like a true man; but, unless he is belied, he did but clip
a varlet's ear, which was no very knightly deed. By these ten
finger-bones! had I been there with Black Simon of Norwich, and but one
score picked men of the Company, we had held them in play. Could we do
no more, we had at least filled the false knight, Sir Judas, so full of
English arrows that he would curse the day that ever he came on such an
errand."

The young clerk smiled at his companion's earnestness. "Had He wished
help," he said, "He could have summoned legions of archangels from
heaven, so what need had He of your poor bow and arrow? Besides, bethink
you of His own words--that those who live by the sword shall perish by
the sword."

"And how could man die better?" asked the archer. "If I had my wish, it
would be to fall so--not, mark you, in any mere skirmish of the Company,
but in a stricken field, with the great lion banner waving over us and
the red oriflamme in front, amid the shouting of my fellows and the
twanging of the strings. But let it be sword, lance, or bolt that
strikes me down: for I should think it shame to die from an iron ball
from th