“A green gown and a pair of leathern galligaskins every Pentecost,” said the Kitchener.
“Four marks by the year at Candlemas,” answered the Refectioner.
“A hogshead of ale at Martlemas, of the double strike, and single ale at pleasure, as he shall agree with the Cellarer—”
“Who is a reasonable man,” said the Abbot, “and will encourage an active servant of the convent.”
“A mess of broth and a dole of mutton or beef, at the Kitchener's, on each high holiday,” resumed the Kitchener.
“The gang of two cows and a palfrey on our Lady's meadow.” answered his brother officer.
“An ox-hide to make buskins of yearly, because of the brambles,” echoed the Kitchener.
“And various other perquisites, quae nunc praescribere longum,” said the Abbot, summing, with his own lordly voice, the advantages attached to the office of conventional bow-bearer.
Dame Glendinning was all this while on her knees, her head mechanically turning from the one church officer to the other, which, as they stood one on each side of her, had much the appearance of a figure moved by clock-work, and so soon as they were silent, most devotedly did she kiss the munificent hand of the Abbot. Conscious, however, of Halbert's intractability in some points, she could not help qualifying her grateful and reiterated thanks for the Abbot's bountiful proffer, with a hope that Halbert would see his wisdom, and accept of it.
“How,” said the Abbot, bending his brows, “accept of it?—Woman, is thy son in his right wits?”