There was another gathering of the pages in the great hall on the following day. The earl and chaplain were there, the chief forester and his subordinate. Drogo, still suffering from his fall, and by no means improved in appearance, was brought before them. “Drogo de Harengod,” said the earl, “I should have doubted of God’s justice, had the ordeal to which thou didst appeal gone otherwise. But since yesterday the right has been made yet more clear. Dost thou know yon verdurer?” Drogo looked at the man. “My lord,” he said. “I accept the decision of the combat. Let me go from Kenilworth.” “What, without reparation?” “I have my punishment to bear in expulsion from this place”—(“if punishment it be,” he muttered)—“as for my _soi-disant_ cousin, it will be an evil day for him when he crosses my path elsewhere.” The earl stood astonished at his audacity. “Thou perjured wretch!” he said. “Thou perverter by bribes! thou liar and false accuser! GO, amidst the contempt and scorn of all who know thee.” And, amidst the hisses of his late companions, Drogo left Kenilworth for ever—expelled. Chapter 11: The Early Franciscans. We are afraid that some of our youthful readers will wonder what cause Martin had for such extreme self reproach, and why he should make such a serious matter of a little dissipation—such as we described in our former chapter. But Martin had received a higher call, and although the old Adam within him would have its way, at times, yet his whole heart was set on serving God. To Hubert this dissipation would have seemed a small thing; to Martin such drinking, dicing, and brawling was simply selling his birthright for a mess of pottage. So, with the early dawn, he went to mass at the Franciscan house, and wept all through the service, devoutly offering at the same time the renewed oblation of his heart to God, and praying that through the great sacrifice there commemorated and mystically renewed, the oblation of self might be sanctified. Then he sought the good prior, Adam de Maresco, and obtaining an audience after the _dejeuner_ or breakfast, poured out all his sorrows and sin. The good prior almost smiled at the earnestness of the self rebuke. He was not at all shocked. It was just what he had expected; he was only too delighted to find that the young prodigal loathed so speedily the husks which the swine do eat. “Ah, my son, did I not bid thee not to trust too much to thyself? and now my words have been verified by thy own experience, as it was perhaps well they should be.” “Well! that I should become a drunkard, dicer, and brawler.” “Well that thou shouldst so early hate drinking, dicing, and brawling. To many such hatred only comes after years have brought satiety; to thee, my dear child, one night seems to have brought it.”