"
"Too much, too much," he answered. "But I have ever observed
that the foremost in the field are they who would scorn to
mishandle a prisoner. By St. Paul! it is not they who carry the
breach who are wont to sack the town, but the laggard knaves who
come crowding in when a way has been cleared for them. But what
is this among the trees?"
"It is a shrine of Our Lady," said Terlake, "and a blind beggar
who lives by the alms of those who worship there."
"A shrine!" cried the knight. "Then let us put up an orison."
Pulling off his cap, and clasping his hands, he chanted in a
shrill voice: "Benedictus dominus Deus meus, qui docet manus
meas ad proelium, et digitos meos ad bellum." A strange figure
he seemed to his three squires, perched on his huge horse, with
his eyes upturned and the wintry sun shimmering upon his bald
head. "It is a noble prayer," he remarked, putting on his hat
again, "and it was taught to me by the noble Chandos himself.
But how fares it with you, father? Methinks that I should have
ruth upon you, seeing that I am myself like one who looks through
a horn window while his neighbors have the clear crystal.
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