CHAPTER III. HOW HORDLE JOHN COZENED THE FULLER OF LYMINGTON.

eatandhurrieddowntheroad.Whenherose,however,Alleyneobservedthathisrobewasmuchtoolongandlooseforhimineverydirection,trailinguponthegroundandbaggingabouthisankles,sothatevenwithtrussed-upskirtshecouldmakelittleprogress.Heranonce,butthelonggowncloggedhimsothathesloweddownintoashamblingwalk,andfinallyplumpedintotheheatheroncemore. “Youngfriend,”saidhe,whenAlleynewasabreastofhim,“IfearfromthygarbthatthoucanstknowlittleoftheAbbeyofBeaulieu.” “Thenyouareinerror,friend,”theclerkanswered,“forIhavespentallmydayswithinitswalls.” “Hastsoindeed?”criedhe.“Thenperhapscansttellmethenameofagreatloathlylumpofabrotherwi'freckledfacean'ahandlikeaspade.Hiseyeswereblackan'hishairwasredan'hisvoiceliketheparishbull.Itrowthattherecannotbetwoalikeinthesamecloisters.” “ThatsurelycanbenootherthanbrotherJohn,”saidAlleyne.“Itrusthehasdoneyounowrong,thatyoushouldbesohotagainsthim.” “Wrong,quotha?”criedtheother,jumpingoutoftheheather.“Wrong!whyhehathstoleneveryplackofclothingoffmyback,ifthatbeawrong,andhathleftmehereinthissorryfrockofwhitefalding,sothatIhaveshametogobacktomywife,lestshethinkthatIhavedonnedheroldkirtle.HarrowandalasthateverIshouldhavemethim!” “Buthowcamethis?”askedtheyoungclerk,whocouldscarcekeepfromlaughteratthesightofthehotlittlemansoswathedinthegreatwhitecloak. “Itcameinthisway,”hesaid,sittingdownoncemore:“Iwaspassingthisway,hopingtoreachLymingtonerenightfallwhenIcameonthisred-headedknaveseatedevenwherewearesittingnow.IuncoveredandloutedasIpassedthinkingthathemightbeaholymanathisorisons,buthecalledtomeandaskedmeifIhadheardspeakofthenewindulgenceinfavoroftheCistercians.'NotI,'Ianswered.'Thentheworseforthysoul!'saidheandwiththathebrokeintoalongtalehowthatonaccountofthevirtuesoftheAbbotBerghershithadbeendecreedbythePopethatwhoevershouldwearthehabitofamonkofBeaulieuforaslongashemightsaythesevenpsalmsofDavidshouldbeassuredofthek