the
hint. He dismounted from his high horse, and the orphans got their own
again. But these and like duties were a heavy cross to Hugh. He hoped
to be excused of God because he obeyed orders, rather than rewarded
because he did well. Like Cowley, he looked upon business as "the
frivolous pretence of human lusts to shake off innocence." He would not
even look at his own household accounts, but delegated such work to
trustworthy folk, while these behaved well. If they misbehaved he
quickly detected it and sent them packing.

We have now reached the year A.D. 1200. King John has been crowned for a
year. Hugh was not present at this ceremony, and the king, anxious still
for his support, sends for him to be present at the great peace he was
concluding with France. By this treaty the Dauphin was to marry Blanche
of Castile and become Earl of Evreux, a dangerous earldom, and Philip
was to drop the cause of young Arthur and give up debateable Vexin. Hugh
also was tempted over seas by the hope of visiting his old haunts, which
he felt must be done now or never, for health and eyesight were failing
him, and he needed this refreshment for his vexed soul. It was in the
Chateau Gaillard again that he met the king, left him in the sweet
spring time at the end of May, for a pilgrim tour to shrines and haunts
of holy men living and dead--a pilgrimage made possible by the new
peace.

Here it must be confessed that modern sympathy is apt to falter, for
though we can understand the zeal of American tourists for chips of
palaces and the communal moral code peculiar to archaeologists, coin
collectors, and umbrella snatchers, we cannot understand the enthusiasm
which the manliest, holiest, and robustest minds then displayed for
relics, for stray split straws and strained twigs from the fledged
bird's nests whence holy souls had fled to other skies. To us these
things mean but little; but to Hugh they meant very much. The facts must
be given, and the reader can decide whether they are beauty spots or
warts upon the strong, patient, brave face upon which they appear.

His first objective, when he left the Andelys, was Meulan, and there he
"approached St. Nicasius." This saint, a very fine fellow, had been
Bishop of Rheims, eight hundred years before. When the Vandals invaded
the land he had advanced to meet them with a procession of singers and
got an ugly sword cut, which lopt off a piece of his head. He went on
still singing till he dropp