which had come raging after him once more.

As he sprang down, a dozen monks surrounded him to thank him or to
praise him; but he would have turned sullenly away without a word had he
not been stopped by Abbot John in person.

"Nay, Squire Loring," said he, "if you be a bad friend to our Abbey, yet
we must needs own that you have played the part of a good Christian this
day, for if there is breath left in our servant's body it is to you next
to our blessed patron Saint Bernard that we owe it."

"By Saint Paul! I owe you no good-will, Abbot John," said the young man.
"The shadow of your Abbey has ever fallen across the house of Loring. As
to any small deed that I may have done this day, I ask no thanks for
it. It is not for you nor for your house that I have done it, but only
because it was my pleasure so to do."

The Abbot flushed at the bold words, and bit his lip with vexation.

It was the sacrist, however, who answered: "It would be more fitting and
more gracious," said he, "if you were to speak to the holy Father Abbot
in a manner suited to his high rank and to the respect which is due to a
Prince of the Church."

The youth turned his bold blue eyes upon the monk, and his sunburned
face darkened with anger. "Were it not for the gown upon your back, and
for your silvering hair, I would answer you in another fashion," said
he. "You are the lean wolf which growls ever at our door, greedy for the
little which hath been left to us. Say and do what you will with me, but
by Saint Paul! if I find that Dame Ermyntrude is baited by your ravenous
pack I will beat them off with this whip from the little patch which
still remains of all the acres of my fathers."

"Have a care, Nigel Loring, have a care!" cried the Abbot, with finger
upraised. "Have you no fears of the law of England?"

"A just law I fear and obey."

"Have you no respect for Holy Church?"

"I respect all that is holy in her. I do not respect those who grind the
poor or steal their neighbor's land."

"Rash man, many a one has been blighted by her ban for less than you
have now said! And yet it is not for us to judge you harshly this day.
You are young and hot words come easily to your lips. How fares the
forester?"

"His hurt is grievous, Father Abbot, but he will live," said a brother,
looking up from the prostrate form. "With a blood-letting and an
electuary, I will warrant him sound within a month."

"Then bear him to the hospital. And now, brot