“Who are ye?”
“Two poor brethren of Saint Francis.”
“What do you want?”
“The wayfarer’s welcome. Bed and board according to the rule of your hospitable house.”
“We like not you grey friars—for we are told you are setters forth of strange doctrines, and disturb steady old church folk. But natheless the hospitium is open to you as to all, whether gentle or simple, lay folk or clerks. So enter, only if you threw those gray cloaks into the moat, you would be more welcome.”
They knew that, but they were not ashamed of their colours.
“Look,” said one of the monks to his fellow; “they that have turned the world upside down have come hither also.”
“Whom the warder hath received.”
“They will find scant welcome.”
Meanwhile Martin was looking with curious eyes on the buildings which had first received him when he escaped from the outlaw life of old. But the evening meal was already prepared, and the bell rang for supper.