"To Aertrick," replied the monk: "but you will get neither food nor beds there, my son, for so large a troop. 'Tis a poor place, and the priest is a poor man, who would lodge a single traveller willingly enough, but has no room for more, nor bread to give them; but your best plan will be to come with me to Thorout. 'Tis a little out of your way to Ghent; but yet you can reach that city to-morrow, if you will, though 'tis a long day's journey--well nigh ten leagues."
"Is there a hostel in Thorout, good father?" asked Richard of Woodville.
"One of the most miserable in Flanders, Hainault, or Brabant," answered the monk, laughing; "but we have a priory there, where we are always willing to lodge strangers, and let them taste of our refectory. We are a poor order," he continued, with a sly smile, "but yet we live in a rich country, and the people are benevolent to us, so that our board is not ill supplied; and strangers who visit us always remember our poverty."
"That we will do most willingly," said Richard of Woodville, "to the best of our ability, good father. But you see we have a lady with us. Now I have heard, that in some orders--"
"Ay, ay," replied the monk, laughing, "where the brotherhood are in sad doubt of their own virtue; but we are all grave and sober men, and fear not to see a fair sister amongst us--as a visitor, as a visitor, of course. It would be a want of Christian charity to send a fair lady from the gate, when she was in need of food and lodging. But come on, sir, if you will come; for we have still near a league to go, and 'tis well nigh the hour of supper, which this pious beast of mine knows right well. I had to drub him all the way to Aertrick, because he thought I had ought to be at vespers in the convent; and now he ambles me well nigh three leagues to the hour, because he knows that I ought to be back again. Oh, he has as much care of my conscience as a lady's father-director has of hers. Come, my son, if you be coming;" and therewith he put his ass once more into a quick pace, and took the road to the right.
In little more than half an hour the whole party stood before the gates of a large heavy building, inclosed within high walls, situated at a short distance from the town of Thorout; and the good monk, leaving his new friends without, went in to speak with the prior in regard to their reception. No great difficulty seemed to be made; and the prior himself, a white bearded, fresh complexioned old man, with a watery blue eye, well set in fat, came out to the door to welcome them. His air was benevolent; and his look, though somewhat more joyous than was perhaps quite in harmony with his vows, was by no means so unusual in his class as to call for any particular observation on the part of the young Englishman.
Far from displaying any scruples in regard to receiving Ella within those holy walls, he was the first to show himself busy, perhaps somewhat more than needful, in assisting her to dismount. It was evident that he was a great admirer of beauty in the other sex; but there were other objects for which he had an extreme regard; and one of those, in the form of the supper of the monastery, was already being placed upon the table of the refectory; so that there was no other course for him to pursue than to hasten the whole party in, to partake of the meal, only pausing to ask Richard of Woodville, with a glance at the black robe of serge and the white wimple of Ella Brune, whether she was a sister of some English order?
Woodville simply replied that she was not, but merely a young maiden who was placed under his charge, to escort safely to Peronne, or perhaps Dijon, if she did not find her relations, who were attached to the Court of Burgundy, at the former place.
The good prior was satisfied for the time, and led the way on to the refectory, where about twenty brethren were assembled, waiting with as eager looks for the commencement of the meal as if they had been fasting for at least four-and-twenty hours. To judge, however, from the viands to which they soon sat down, no such abstinence was usually practised; and capons, and roe-deer, and wild-boar pork, were in as great plenty on the table of the refectory as in the hall of a high English baron. Some distinction of rank, too, was here observed;[[5]] and the attendants of Richard of Woodville were left to sup with the servants of the convent, somewhat to their surprise and displeasure. The monks in general seemed a cheerful and well-contented race, fond of good cheer and rich wine; and all but one or two seemed to vie with each other in showing very courteous attention to poor Ella Brune, in which course the prior himself, and the brother questor, who had been Woodville's guide thither, particularly distinguished themselves.
There was one saturnine man, indeed, seated somewhat far down the table, with his head bent over his platter, who seemed to take little share in the hilarity of the others. From time to time he gave a side-long look towards Ella; but it was evidently not one of love or admiration; and Richard of Woodville was easily led to imagine that the good brother was somewhat scandalized at the presence of a woman in the convent. He asked the questor, who sat next to him, however, in a low voice, who that silent brother was; and it needed no farther explanation to make the monk understand whom he meant.