"This hath been no fight of our choosing, fair sirs," he said. "In passing this spot we found this lord and his lady daughter in the power of a band of forest runners, who were murdering their servants. We charged the varlets for the sake of kindliness, and were like to have been killed ourselves, for they were exceeding desperate."
"Why, that is a reasonable tale," spoke up the knight who rode by the friar.
The priest scowled.
"This man is a jongleur," he said, pointing accusingly to Matteo's gittern, which was fastened to the back of his saddle.
"That is so," assented Matteo. "'Tis no crime in the Holy Land whence I come, sir friar."
"Hast been in Outremer?" enquired the knight eagerly.
"Even so, lord."
The priest scowled fiercer still.
"Y'are no respecter of God's servants, 'twould seem," he snapped. "Why left you the Holy Land? What better place to live than the scene of Our Saviour's passion?"
"As to that, sir friar," answered Matteo coolly, "I came even to see how it was the Christians of the West were so long in mustering to the rescue of the Holy Sepulchre."