s be very treacherous, and
thou wilt need constant vigilance."

So they talked until the midnight hour.

No ghostly visitant appeared to mar its joy, and the sire and son
slept. The old man made the youth lie on his couch, while he lay on
the floor. Hubert resisted the arrangement in vain; the father was
absolute, and so they slept.

On the morrow the travellers (of both parties) left the priory
together, after the chapter mass at nine. Hubert had bidden the
last farewell to his old father, who with difficulty relinquished
his grasp of his adored boy, now that the hour for fulfilling the
purpose of many years had come at last. Martin and his brother and
companion Ginepro were there, and the six men-at-arms who were to
act as a guard of honour to the young knight in his passage through
the forest to the castle of his ancestors. They purposed to travel
together as long as their different objects permitted.

"My men will be a protection," said Hubert.

The young friars laughed.

"We need no protection," said Ginepro. "If we want arms, these
bulrushes will serve for spears."

"Nay, do not jest," said Martin.

"We have other arms, my Hubert."

"What are they?"

"Only faith and prayer, but they never fail."

Then they talked of the future. Hubert disclosed all his plans to
Martin; how he must visit the castle at Fievrault; how he must seek
and carry the sword of the knight whom his father had slain and lay
it on the Holy Sepulchre; how then he hoped to return, but not till
he had dyed the sword in the blood of the Paynim, etc. And Martin
told his plans for a mission in the Andredsweald; of his hope to
reclaim the outlaws to Christianity, and to pacify the forests; to
reunite the lords of Norman descent and the Saxon peasants together
in one common love.

"Shall you visit Walderne Castle?" inquired Hubert.

"It may fall to my lot to do so."

"Avoid Drogo; at least do not trust him. He hates us both."

"He may have mended."

Hubert shook his head.

A few warm, affectionate words, and they came to the spot where
their road divided--the one to the northeast, the other to the
southeast. They tried to preserve the proper self control, but it
failed them, and their eyes were very limpid. So they parted.

At midday the two friars rested in a sweet glade, and slept after a
frugal meal, till the birds awoke them with their songs.

"They remind me of an incident in the life of our dear father
Francis," said Gi