"In all things give heed and act discreetly. Be no tale-bearer, but listen well to all that goeth on. In all things serve thy master loyally; but be not so besotted as ever to be ruined for any. As for ensample, if thy lord choose a quarrel that must needs bring him to destruction, go not thou after him, but save thyself in time; as rats are said to cross by the hawser that mooreth a ship to the land, when they know of their own natural sagacity that ruin awaiteth that ship. Only give him fair notice thereof first. See how, during the late civil commotions, the Church hath acted discreetly, and saved her possessions in the midst of the broil. Even George, Archbishop of York, allied as he was to the Earl of Warwick and the Duke of Clarence, yet compounded with the late King Edward IV., on whose soul may God have mercy. But, blessed saints! whom have we here? 'Tis some noble baron, I doubt not, going to Winchester too, unless, indeed, it be the train of my Lord Woodville himself."
They had now reached a high bleak hill, and were nearly at the point where another road joined the one they were travelling by, which led from Marlborough and Cirencester to Winchester. Coming along this other road, which led from Reading, and just rising over the brow of the hill, Ralph could see a party of well-armed men. The dust from their horses obscured them partly, but he could make out that there were several footmen, carrying the formidable bill which dealt such deadly wounds, and gleaming above them were the helmets of two or three men-at-arms. The red crosses on their white surcoats, or tabards, showed that they belonged to the troops levied for the king, or at least raised by some noble for service, for which it was customary to take a contract.
"Ay, belike that's what they are," said the Abbot. "Do you, Peter, now ride on, while I tarry here to welcome my Lord Woodville; and take good lodgings for the night in Winchester, for me and my kinsman the Master Ralph de Lisle."
This was said to the chief of his lay brothers who acted as his serving-men, and who were clad in a dress very much resembling their lord's, but of a dark colour, instead of white.
Ralph was glad they were going to wait to meet the approaching party. He had never seen a band of armed men before, and he thought the appearance of these very imposing, as the pennons of the mounted men fluttered in the breeze.
"Ay, there's the banner of my Lord Woodville--he'll not be far behind," said the Abbot, as another little band mounted the hill, the centre figure carrying a little square flag on the end of a lance, which gaily waved its red and white colours as the horseman moved to the swing of his steed.
It was a very pretty sight. The wide-extending view, over broad pasture and swelling down, the distance hidden by a grey haze; the yellow road, leading straight across the green grass of the down, for the summer was hardly begun, while the gleaming weapons, white surcoats, and fluttering banners, mingled with the brilliant red of the crosses, and the blazon on the flag, contrasted well with the deep blue of the cloudless sky, fading away to the warm haze of the horizon. Gaily the grasshoppers chirped among the wild convolvulus on the roadside, the bees hummed over the clover, and the larks were soaring joyously in the azure overhead.
Ralph gave a sigh of enjoyment--life was already beginning.
The little party sat motionless on their steeds, the Abbot having reined up his horse at the junction of the two roads. Ralph sat on his horse beside him, and Humphrey, the other lay brother, and the sumpter horses, were grouped behind them--while behind them again was the poor man, leaning against the pony on which his daughter sat, who had, however, frequently insisted on her father taking her place.
Suddenly the Abbot remembered them.