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"
So
ho
!
Friar
Tuck
,
"
said
the
Minstrel
,
drawing
him
apart
from
the
rustics
;
"
we
have
started
a
new
hare
,
I
find
.
"
"
I
tell
thee
,
Allan-a-Dale
,
"
said
the
Hermit
,
"
I
saw
Athelstane
of
Coningsburgh
as
much
as
bodily
eyes
ever
saw
a
living
man
.
He
had
his
shroud
on
,
and
all
about
him
smelt
of
the
sepulchre
--
A
butt
of
sack
will
not
wash
it
out
of
my
memory
.
"
"
Pshaw
!
"
answered
the
Minstrel
;
"
thou
dost
but
jest
with
me
!
"
"
Never
believe
me
,
"
said
the
Friar
,
"
an
I
fetched
not
a
knock
at
him
with
my
quarter-staff
that
would
have
felled
an
ox
,
and
it
glided
through
his
body
as
it
might
through
a
pillar
of
smoke
!
"
"
By
Saint
Hubert
,
"
said
the
Minstrel
,
"
but
it
is
a
wondrous
tale
,
and
fit
to
be
put
in
metre
to
the
ancient
tune
,
Sorrow
came
to
the
old
Friar
.
"
"
Laugh
,
if
ye
list
,
"
said
Friar
Tuck
;
"
but
an
ye
catch
me
singing
on
such
a
theme
,
may
the
next
ghost
or
devil
carry
me
off
with
him
headlong
!
No
,
no
--
I
instantly
formed
the
purpose
of
assisting
at
some
good
work
,
such
as
the
burning
of
a
witch
,
a
judicial
combat
,
or
the
like
matter
of
godly
service
,
and
therefore
am
I
here
.
"
As
they
thus
conversed
,
the
heavy
bell
of
the
church
of
Saint
Michael
of
Templestowe
,
a
venerable
building
,
situated
in
a
hamlet
at
some
distance
from
the
Preceptory
,
broke
short
their
argument
.
One
by
one
the
sullen
sounds
fell
successively
on
the
ear
,
leaving
but
sufficient
space
for
each
to
die
away
in
distant
echo
,
ere
the
air
was
again
filled
by
repetition
of
the
iron
knell
.
These
sounds
,
the
signal
of
the
approaching
ceremony
,
chilled
with
awe
the
hearts
of
the
assembled
multitude
,
whose
eyes
were
now
turned
to
the
Preceptory
,
expecting
the
approach
of
the
Grand
Master
,
the
champion
,
and
the
criminal
.
At
length
the
drawbridge
fell
,
the
gates
opened
,
and
a
knight
,
bearing
the
great
standard
of
the
Order
,
sallied
from
the
castle
,
preceded
by
six
trumpets
,
and
followed
by
the
Knights
Preceptors
,
two
and
two
,
the
Grand
Master
coming
last
,
mounted
on
a
stately
horse
,
whose
furniture
was
of
the
simplest
kind
.
Behind
him
came
Brian
de
Bois-Guilbert
,
armed
cap-a-pie
in
bright
armour
,
but
without
his
lance
,
shield
,
and
sword
,
which
were
borne
by
his
two
esquires
behind
him
.
His
face
,
though
partly
hidden
by
a
long
plume
which
floated
down
from
his
barrel-cap
,
bore
a
strong
and
mingled
expression
of
passion
,
in
which
pride
seemed
to
contend
with
irresolution
.
He
looked
ghastly
pale
,
as
if
he
had
not
slept
for
several
nights
,
yet
reined
his
pawing
war-horse
with
the
habitual
ease
and
grace
proper
to
the
best
lance
of
the
Order
of
the
Temple
.
His
general
appearance
was
grand
and
commanding
;
but
,
looking
at
him
with
attention
,
men
read
that
in
his
dark
features
,
from
which
they
willingly
withdrew
their
eyes
.
On
either
side
rode
Conrade
of
Mont-Fitchet
,
and
Albert
de
Malvoisin
,
who
acted
as
godfathers
to
the
champion
.
They
were
in
their
robes
of
peace
,
the
white
dress
of
the
Order
.
Behind
them
followed
other
Companions
of
the
Temple
,
with
a
long
train
of
esquires
and
pages
clad
in
black
,
aspirants
to
the
honour
of
being
one
day
Knights
of
the
Order
.
After
these
neophytes
came
a
guard
of
warders
on
foot
,
in
the
same
sable
livery
,
amidst
whose
partisans
might
be
seen
the
pale
form
of
the
accused
,
moving
with
a
slow
but
undismayed
step
towards
the
scene
of
her
fate
.
She
was
stript
of
all
her
ornaments
,
lest
perchance
there
should
be
among
them
some
of
those
amulets
which
Satan
was
supposed
to
bestow
upon
his
victims
,
to
deprive
them
of
the
power
of
confession
even
when
under
the
torture
.
