Another smile.
“No, my son, all these things go by habit.”
“Shall I begin to leave off my shoes?”
“Not yet, your vocation is not settled. You may yet choose the world.”
“I never shall.”
“Poor boy, you are young and cannot tell. Perhaps before nightfall a different light may be thrown upon your good resolutions.”
A pause ensued. At length Martin went on, “At least you have books. I love books.”
“At first we had not even them, but later on the Holy Father thought that those who contend with the unbelieving learned should be learned themselves. They who pour forth must suck in.”
“When did the Order come to Oxford?”
“Thirty years agone. When we first landed at Dover we made our way to London, the home of commerce, and Oxford, the home of learning. The two first gray brethren lost their way in the woods of Nuneham, on their road to the city, and afraid of the floods, which were out, and of the dark night, which made it difficult to avoid the water, took refuge in a grange, which belonged to the Abbey of Abingdon, where dwelt a small branch of the great Benedictine Brotherhood. Their clothes were ragged and torn with thorns, and they only spoke broken English, so the monks took them for the travelling jugglers of the day, and welcomed them with great hospitality. But after supper they all assembled in the common room, and bade the supposed jugglers show their craft.