, before this, I should have been bundled out, neck and crop.
'Tis hard, Father, for a man of my inches to be shut up, here, when
there is so much fighting to be done, abroad."

"There is good work to be done, everywhere," the priest said gravely.
"Many of us may have made a mistake in choosing our vocations; but, if
so, we must make the best we can of what is before us."

"What time will you come?" the monk asked Oswald.

"My uncle said that he would suit my hours to yours; but that, if it
was all the same to you, I should practise in arms from six o'clock
till eight, and again for an hour or two in the evening; so that I
could come to you either in the morning or afternoon."

"Come at both, if you will," the monk said. "If the good father can get
me off the services, from eight till six, you can be with me all that
time, save at the dinner hour. You have but a short time to learn in,
and must give yourself heartily to it.

"There is the chapel bell ringing, now, and I must be off. The abbot
will not be present at this service, Father; and if you will, you can
see him now. I doubt not that he will grant your request, for I know
that I anger him, every time I am in chapel. I am fond of music, and I
have a voice like a bull; and, do what I will, it will come out in
spite of me; and he says that my roaring destroys the effect of the
whole choir."

So saying, he strode away.

"Do you wait outside the gates, my son," the priest said. "I shall be
only a few minutes with the abbot; who, as Friar Roger says, will, I
doubt not, be glad enough to grant him leave to abstain from attendance
at the services."

In a short time, indeed, he rejoined Oswald at the gate.

"That matter was managed, easily enough," he said. "The abbot has,
himself, a somewhat warlike disposition, which is not to be wondered
at, seeing that he comes from a family ever ready to draw the sword;
and he has, therefore, a liking for Friar Roger, in spite of his
contumacies, breaches of regulations, and quarrels with the other
monks. He is obliged to continually punish him, with sentences of
seclusion, penance, and fasting; but methinks it goes against the
grain. He said, at once, that he was delighted to hear that he had
voluntarily undertaken some work that would keep him out of trouble,
and that he willingly, and indeed gladly, absolved him from attendance
in chapel, during the hours that he was occupied with you.

"'He is not without his uses,' h