“You understand,” said Nicholas, putting his horse into motion, and beginning to explain all over again, “you understand that it had not been for that foul hound yelping, I should have had him here. I never miss such a shot; and then when we went after him--” “I understand perfectly, Nick,” said Ralph. “You missed him because you did not shoot straight, and you did not catch him because you did not go fast enough. A lawyer could say no more.” Nicholas threw back his head and laughed loudly, for the two were good friends. “Well, if you will have it,” he said, “I was a damned fool. There! A lawyer dare not say as much--not to me, at any rate.” Ralph found his man half a mile further on coming to meet him with his horse, and he mounted and rode on with Nicholas towards the mill. “I have something to tell you,” he said presently. “Chris is to be a monk.” “Mother of God!” cried Nicholas, half checking his horse, “and when was that arranged?” “Last night,” went on Ralph. “He went to see the Holy Maid at St. Sepulchre’s, and it seems that she told him he had a vocation; so there is an end of it.” “And what do you all think of it?” asked the other. “Oh! I suppose he knows his business.” Nicholas asked a number of questions, and was informed that Chris proposed to go to Lewes in a month’s time. He was already twenty-three, the Prior had given his conditional consent before, and there was no need for waiting. Yes, they were Cluniacs; but Ralph believed that they were far from strict just at present. It need not be the end of Chris so far as this world was concerned. “But you must not say that to him,” he went on, “he thinks it is heaven itself between four walls, and we shall have a great scene of farewell. I think I must go back to town before it takes place: I cannot do that kind of thing.” Nicholas was not attending, and rode on in silence for a few yards, sucking in his lower lip. “We are lucky fellows, you and I,” he said at last, “to have a monk to pray for us.” Ralph glanced at him, for he was perfectly grave, and a rather intent and awed look was in his eyes. “I think a deal of that,” he went on, “though I cannot talk to a churchman as I should. I had a terrible time with my Lord of Canterbury last year, at Oxford. He was not a hunter like this one, and I knew not what else to speak of.” Ralph’s eyes narrowed with amusement. “What did you say to him?” he asked. “I forget,” said Nicholas, “and I hope my lord did. Mary told me I behaved like a fool. But this one is better, I hear. He is at Ashford now with his hounds.” They talked a little more about Chris, and Ralph soon saw on which side Nicholas ranged himself. It was an unfeigned pleasure to this hunting squire to have a monk for a brother-in-law; there was no knowing how short purgatory might not be for them all under the circumstances.