The Bishop smiled as he looked into the blue eyes and open countenance of young Roger de Berchelai, a youth wholly devoted to his service. Here was another who remembered in pictures, and Symon of Worcester loved the gallop, and rush, and breeze of the sea, which had swept through the chamber, in the eager young voice of his envoy.
"Yes, my son," said the Bishop. "You have returned, not merely in time, but with two days to spare. Was there ever fleeter messenger! Indeed my choice was well made and my trust well placed. Now you must sup and then take a much-needed rest, dear lad; and to-morrow tell me if you had need to spend more than I gave you."
Raising his voice, the Bishop called his Chaplain; whereupon that sinister figure at once appeared in the doorway.
The Bishop gave orders concerning the entertaining of the young Esquire of Berchelai; then added; "And let the chapel be lighted, Father Benedict. So soon as the aurora appears in the east, I shall celebrate mass, in thanksgiving for the blessing of a letter from the Holy Father, and for the safe return of my messenger. I shall not need your presence nor that of any of the brethren, save those whose watch it chances to be. . . . Benedicite."
"Deus," responded Father Benedict, bowing low.
Young Roger, gay and glad, knelt and kissed the Bishop's ring; then, rising, flung back a strand of fair hair which fell over his forehead, and said: "A bath, my lord, would be even more welcome than supper and bed. It shames me to have come in such travel-stained plight into your presence, and that of this noble knight," with a bow to Hugh d'Argent.
"Nay," said Hugh, smiling in friendly response. "Travel-stains gained in such fashion, are more to be desired than silks and fine linen. I would I could go to rest this night knowing I had accomplished as much."
"Go and have thy bath, boy," said the Bishop. "This will give my monks time to tickle, catch, and cook, trout for thy supper! Ah, thou young rascal! But that field is Corban, remember. Sup well, rest well, and the blessing of the Lord be with thee."
The brown riding-suit vanished through the archway.
Father Benedict's lean hand pulled the door to.