Winendale, along the high raised causeway which commenced at the gates of Ghistel. As no likelihood of obtaining any nearer place of repose presented itself, the young Englishman proceeded to follow these directions, and towards three o'clock of the same day reached the village of Erneghem. Much to his disappointment, however, he found no place of entertainment there. The inhabitants were mostly in the fields, and but little food was to be obtained for man or horse. On his own account, Richard of Woodville cared little; nor did he much heed his men being broken in to privations, which he well knew must often befal them; but for Ella Brune he was more anxious, and expressed to her kindly his fears lest she should suffer from hunger and fatigue. But Ella laughed lightly, replying, "I am more accustomed to it than any of you." Onward from that place, the march of the travellers was through the deep green wood, which, at that time, extended from a few miles to the south of Thorout, almost to the gates of Bruges. The soil was marshy, the road heavy, and full of sand; but the weather was still beautifully clear, the sun shone bright and warm, a thousand wild flowers grew up under the shade, and the leafy branches of the forest offered no unpleasant canopy, even at that early period of the year. Neither village, nor house, nor woodman's hut, nor castle tower, presented itself for several miles; and as they approached a spot where the road divided into two, with no friendly indication to the weary traveller of the place to which either tended, Richard of Woodville turned towards Ella, asking--"Which, think you, I ought to follow, my fair maid? or had I better, like the knight-errant of old, give the choice up to my horse, and see what his sagacity will do, where my own entirely fails me?" "What little I have," replied Ella, "would be of no good here; but I think the best road to choose would be the most beaten one." "Often the safest, Ella," replied Richard, with a smile. "Yet not always the most pleasant," answered Ella Brune. But, as she spoke, a human figure came in sight, the first that they had seen since they had left Erneghem. It was that of a stout monk, in a grey gown, with a large straw hat upon his head, tied with a riband under his beard. He was mounted upon a tall powerful ass, which was ambling along with him at a good pace; and though he pulled up when he saw the large party of strangers pausing at the separation of the two roads, he came forward at a slower pace the next moment, and, after a careful inspection of the young leader's person, saluted him courteously in the French tongue.--"Give you good day, and benedicite, my son," he said, bowing his head. "You seem embarrassed about your way. Can I help you?" "Infinitely, good father," replied Richard of Woodville, "if you can direct me on the road. I am going to Ghent."