attendants. It is probable, too, that the language in which the benediction was conferred, and the information asked, sounded ungracious, though not probably unintelligible, in the ears of the Saxon peasants. “I asked you, my children,” said the Prior, raising his voice, and using the lingua Franca, or mixed language, in which the Norman and Saxon races conversed with each other, “if there be in this neighbourhood any good man, who, for the love of God, and devotion to Mother Church, will give two of her humblest servants, with their train, a night’s hospitality and refreshment?” This he spoke with a tone of conscious importance, which formed a strong contrast to the modest terms which he thought it proper to employ. “Two of the humblest servants of Mother Church!” repeated Wamba to himself,—but, fool as he was, taking care not to make his observation audible; “I should like to see her seneschals, her chief butlers, and other principal domestics!” After this internal commentary on the Prior’s speech, he raised his eyes, and replied to the question which had been put. “If the reverend fathers,” he said, “loved good cheer and soft lodging, few miles of riding would carry them to the Priory of Brinxworth, where their quality could not but secure them the most honourable reception; or if they preferred spending a penitential evening, they might turn down yonder wild glade, which would bring them to the hermitage of Copmanhurst, where a pious anchoret would make them sharers for the night of the shelter of his roof and the benefit of his prayers.” The Prior shook his head at both proposals. “Mine honest friend,” said he, “if the jangling of thy bells had not dizzied thine understanding, thou mightst know “Clericus clericum non decimat”; that is to say, we churchmen do not exhaust each other’s hospitality, but rather require that of the laity, giving them thus an opportunity to serve God in honouring and relieving his appointed servants.” “It is true,” replied Wamba, “that I, being but an ass, am, nevertheless, honoured to hear the bells as well as your reverence’s mule; notwithstanding, I did conceive that the charity of Mother Church and her servants might be said, with other charity, to begin at home.” “A truce to thine insolence, fellow,” said the armed rider, breaking in on his prattle with a high and stern voice, “and tell us, if thou canst, the road to—How call’d you your Franklin, Prior Aymer?” “Cedric,” answered the Prior; “Cedric the Saxon.—Tell me, good fellow, are we near his dwelling, and can you show us the road?” “The road will be uneasy to find,” answered Gurth, who broke silence for the first time, “and the family of Cedric retire early to rest.” “Tush, tell not me, fellow,” said the military rider; “’tis easy for them to arise and 

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