"Holy father," said the knight, "upon whose countenance it hath pleased

Heaven to work such a miracle, permit a sinful layman to crave thy

name?"

"Thou mayst call me," answered the hermit, "the Clerk of Copmanhurst,

for so I am termed in these parts--They add, it is true, the

epithet holy, but I stand not upon that, as being unworthy of such

addition.--And now, valiant knight, may I pray ye for the name of my

honourable guest?"

"Truly," said the knight, "Holy Clerk of Copmanhurst, men call me in

these parts the Black Knight,--many, sir, add to it the epithet of

Sluggard, whereby I am no way ambitious to be distinguished."

The hermit could scarcely forbear from smiling at his guest's reply.

"I see," said he, "Sir Sluggish Knight, that thou art a man of prudence

and of counsel; and moreover, I see that my poor monastic fare likes

thee not, accustomed, perhaps, as thou hast been, to the license of

courts and of camps, and the luxuries of cities; and now I bethink me,

Sir Sluggard, that when the charitable keeper of this forest-walk left

those dogs for my protection, and also those bundles of forage, he left

me also some food, which, being unfit for my use, the very recollection

of it had escaped me amid my more weighty meditations."

"I dare be sworn he did so," said the knight; "I was convinced that

there was better food in the cell, Holy Clerk, since you first doffed

your cowl.--Your keeper is ever a jovial fellow; and none who beheld thy

grinders contending with these pease, and thy throat flooded with this

ungenial element, could see thee doomed to such horse-provender and

horse-beverage," (pointing to the provisions upon the table,) "and

refrain from mending thy cheer. Let us see the keeper's bounty,

therefore, without delay."

The hermit cast a wistful look upon the knight, in which there was

a sort of comic expression of hesitation, as if uncertain how far he

should act prudently in trusting his guest. There was, however, as much

of bold frankness in the knight's countenance as was possible to be

expressed by features. His smile, too, had something in it irresistibly

comic, and gave an assurance of faith and loyalty, with which his host

could not refrain from sympathizing.

After exchanging a mute glance or two, the hermit went to the further

side of the hut, and opened a hutch, which was concealed with great care

and some ingenuity. Out of the recesses of a dark closet, into which

this aperture gave admittance, he brought a large pasty, baked in a

pewter platter of unusual dimensions. This mighty dish he placed before

his guest, who, using his poniard to cut it open, lost no time in making

himself acquainted with its contents.




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