"He is about to enter Sir Henry's household," the priest went on; "but, seeing that the knight is still away, and may be absent for some weeks yet, the young man is anxious to learn to read and write-- "Not from any idea of entering the Church," he broke off, with a smile, at the expression of surprise on the monk's face; "but that it may be useful to him in procuring advancement. "I have, therefore, brought him to you; thinking that you would make a far better teacher, for a lad like him, than your brothers in the school. I thought perhaps that, if I spoke to the abbot, he might release you from your attendance at some of the services, for such a purpose." "That is a consideration," the monk laughed. "Well, young sir, I tell you fairly that among my gifts is not that of patience with fools. If you are disposed to work right heartily, as I suppose you must be, or you would not make such a request, I on my part will do my best to teach you; but you must not mind if, sometimes, you get a rough buffet to assist your memory." "I should doubt whether a buffet, from you, would not be more likely to confuse my memory than to assist it," Oswald said, with a smile; "but at any rate, I am ready to take my chance, and can promise to do my best to avoid taxing your patience, to that point." "That will do, Father," the monk said. "He is a lad of spirit, and it is a pleasure to train one of that kind. As to the puny boys they send to be made monks because, forsooth, they are likely to grow up too weak for any other calling, I have no patience with them; and I get into sore disgrace, with the abbot, for my shortness of temper." "I am afraid, from what I hear," the priest said, shaking his head, but unable to repress a smile, "that you are often in disgrace, Brother Roger." "I fear that it is so, and were it not that I am useful, in teaching the lay brothers and the younger monks the use of the carnal weapons, I know that, before this, I should have been bundled out, neck and crop. 'Tis hard, Father, for a man of my inches to be shut up, here, when there is so much fighting to be done, abroad." "There is good work to be done, everywhere," the priest said gravely. "Many of us may have made a mistake in choosing our vocations; but, if so, we must make the best we can of what is before us." "What time will you come?" the monk asked Oswald. "My uncle said that he would suit my hours to yours; but that, if it was all the same to you, I should practise in arms from six o'clock till eight, and again for an hour or two in the evening; so that I could come to you either in the morning or afternoon." "Come at both, if you will," the monk said. "If the good father can get me off the services, from eight till six, you can be with me all that time, save at the dinner hour. You have but a short time to learn in, and must give yourself heartily to it.