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"This is indeed a
day of comings and of goings. It is strange that in one twelve
hours the Abbey should have cast off its foulest weed and should
now lose what we are fain to look upon as our choicest blossom."
"You speak too kindly, father," the youth answered. "If I had my
will I should never go forth, but should end my days here in
Beaulieu. It hath been my home as far back as my mind can carry
me, and it is a sore thing for me to have to leave it."
"Life brings many a cross," said the Abbot gently. "Who is
without them? Your going forth is a grief to us as well as to
yourself. But there is no help. I had given my foreword and
sacred promise to your father, Edric the Franklin, that at the
age of twenty you should be sent out into the world to see for
yourself how you liked the savor of it. Seat thee upon the
settle, Alleyne, for you may need rest ere long."
The youth sat down as directed, but reluctantly and with
diffidence. The Abbot stood by the narrow window, and his long
black shadow fell slantwise across the rush-strewn floor.


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