In the high-vaulted refectory, the small arched windows of which looked out into the garden of the monastery, and were darkened by a row of lime-trees, sat the heavy-built abbot Johan in his laced leathern arm-chair, with a lamp before him, at the supper-table, holding a kind of instructive discourse for the edification of the humbly-listening brethren of the order and the pupils of the monastery. Nearest him sat eleven monks in black cloaks, among whom Peter Porter took his place as the twelfth. The same number of little boys, who were educating as monks, and wore black benedictine mantles, as well as the brethren of the order, took the lowest place at the table, and eagerly partook of the repast, while, however, they seemed to listen very attentively to the abbot's discourse. On the entrance of the travellers the dignified prelate half rose from his seat, with a look of annoyance, and bade them welcome in St. Peter's and St. Bent's name, but almost without vouchsafing them a glance, and in a tone which betrayed that it was only in compliance with the rules of his order that he received such self-invited guests. However, when the two tall knights approached him nearer, with a reverent and courteous salutation, and the lamp on the table lit up Sir Niels Brock's martial visage, the abbot's proud bearing and repulsive looks suddenly changed. He signed a blessing over the knight and his companions, and, with courteous condescension, besought them to be seated, while he hastily, with a side-wink of the eye, laid his finger on his mouth, and continued to address them as strangers. Besides the twelve brethren of the order and the monkishly-clad children, there sat a person at the table, also in a black benedictine mantle, but without the hood and complete dress of the order. He had hastily risen on the entrance of the travellers, and appeared about to withdraw; but, on hearing Sir Niels Brock's powerful voice, he turned round to the newly-arrived guests, and nodded familiarly to Brock. It now appeared that this person bore not the tonsure, and was even adorned with a warrior-like beard; his forehead and eye-brows were hidden by his yellowish red and combed down hair. Brock started, and greeted him with surprise, but in silence. "A guest from the world who hath sought safety in the dress of our holy order and the sanctuary of the monastery," said the abbot. "I can, therefore, only present him to you without mention of his name, as I also have received you in the holy Bent's and St. Peter's name, without asking of your name in the world, or the object of your journey." "Your hospitality and high mindedness are well known throughout the country, pious sir," said Brock, with another obeisance. "We are not, it is true, among the persecuted. The object of our journey also is no secret; but we equally acknowledge, with thanks and reverence, the shelter these holy walls afford from storms of _all_ kinds."