"It was because thou wast indeed my son." He clasped both my hands in his, and looked down into my eyes. And I said "Father" for the first time thus, knowing that this was he of whom the vicomtesse told me.
"Thy father indeed," he said, "but ruined these many years by follies more than by crimes, as this Augustine, mine old schoolfellow, will tell."
"Father," said I, "Duke William and the vicomte will feel kindly to thee for thy lot in this matter."
"It matters not," he answered; "I have long ago done with courts, and now I have done with fighting. A quiet resting-place is all I want. And in those solitary days Augustine and I have made our determination. Have many brethren died in the siege?" he asked of Hugo, who nodded sadly.
"Then here is one to fill an empty hood," said my father. And I knew that the priest of St. Apolline's had persuaded him to become a monk.
"Thou wilt go forth," he said to me, "to wars, and courts, and princes, and may God shield thee still from all evil, as He hath so marvellously done these perilous days. From Vale Cloister will I look out on thee in pride of thy knightly fame, if such a small taint of earth as pride in thee be there permitted."
In such a manner were we made known to one another, the son and the father, and ere long Ralf de Bessin became Brother Francis of the Vale.
But I, ere that, had left my pupilage behind, and was numbered in the retinue of my uncle the vicomte as he followed the ever-conquering banner of William.