e king,
did he communicate. Indeed it was said he had never done so since he was
grown up.

Next Sunday the court was at Rouen and Archbishop Walter was investing
John with the sacred emblems of the Duchy of Normandy during the High
Mass. A banner on a lance was handed to the new duke. John advanced,
amid cheers, and the foolish cackle of laughter of his former boon
companions. He looked over his shoulder to grin back at the fools, his
friends, and from his feeble grasp the old banner fell upon the
pavement! But Hugh had left him for England before this evil omen. When
the bishop reached Fleche on Easter Monday, he went to church to vest
for Mass. His servants rushed in to say that the guards had seized his
horses and carts, and robbers had taken some of his pack horses. The
company, including Gilbert de Glanville of Rochester, his friend,
begged him not to say Mass, but merely to read the gospel and hurry out
of the trap. Neither chagrined at his loss, nor moved by their terrors,
he went deaf and silent to the altar. He was not content either with a
plain celebration. He must need have sandals, tunic, and all the rest of
the robes, and add a pontifical blessing to the solemn celebration. As
he was unrobing the magistrates came in a fine state of repentance, with
restitution, safe conducts, and humble words. He jested with them and
past on to St. Peter's, at Le Mans. Here another alarm met them.
Arthur's troopers rushed the place in the night meaning to catch John.
News of more robberies and violence came, but thanks to the Abbot he got
safely on and Dame Constance of Brittany sent him many apologies and
assurances. He reached Sees safely but insisted upon going aside for a
little pious colloquy with a learned and devout Abbot of Persigne,
although the country was in a very dangerous condition for travelling.
He found the good man away; so he said Mass and went on, and at last got
home to tell them at Lincoln that all was peace. His progress was a
triumph of delighted crowds, for the hearts of his people had been with
him in all the struggle thus safely ended, and the sea of people
shouted, "Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord," as their
father rode towards his cathedral town. The commons evidently felt that
the liberties of the church were the outworks of the liberties of the
land.

But the god of victory is a maimed god, and the battles of the world
irked Hugh's contemplative soul. He wished to lay by