o
for some unknown reason had, in early manhood, suddenly laid aside his
sword and shield and assumed Holy Orders. He had been the Abbot of
Kirkstall for many years, and it was understood had great power and
influence in the Church; though he, himself, rarely went beyond the
limits of his own domain. He was, however, regarded as an intriguing,
political priest, of Lancastrian inclination, but shrewd enough to trim
successfully to whatever faction might be in power.

Two of the remaining leagues had been covered, and they were within a
mile or so of the Wharfe when, rounding a sharp turn, they came upon a
scene that brought every man's sword from its sheath. The narrow road,
at this point, was through a dense forest of oaks and beeches that
crowded to the very edge of the track and formed an arch over it. The
trees grew close together, and the branches were so interlocked that
the sunlight penetrated with difficulty; and though the day was still
far from spent, yet, here, the shadows had already begun to lengthen
into an early twilight. Some two hundred yards down this road was a
group of figures that swayed, now this way, now that, in the broil of
conflict, while from it came the clash of steel. In the road was the
dead body of a horse, and, upon either side of it, lay two men who
would never draw weapon again. The one had been split almost to the
nose by a single downright blow, and the other had been pierced through
the throat by a thrust of the point.

At a little distance, with his back against a tree and defending
himself vigorously from the assault of half a dozen men, stood a tall
and elderly Knight. He was not in armor, except for a light corselet
of steel, and already he had been more than once slightly wounded. His
bonnet had been lost in the melee, and his grey hair was smudged with
blood along the temple. Two more men were dead at his feet, and for
the moment the others hesitated to press in and end the fight. That
huge sword could make short work of at least another pair of them
before the hands that held it would relax, and the uncertainty as to
which would be the victims stayed their rush. Suddenly the Knight
leaped forward, cut down the one nearest him, and was back to the tree
before the others had recovered from their surprise. Then with a roar
of anger they flung themselves upon him, and the struggle began anew.
In their rage and impetuosity, however, they fought without method, and
the