To the Hausvrow Clemence it was a great grief to
leave the peaceful home of her married life, and go among kindred who
had shown their scorn in neglect and cold looks; but she kept a
cheerful face for her husband, and only shed tears over the budding
roses and other plants she had to leave; and she made her guest
understand how great a comfort and solace was her company.
CHAPTER XXI--THE WOUNDED KNIGHT
Belted Will Howard is marching here,
And hot Lord Dacre with many a spear
SCOTT, The Lay of the Last Minstrel.
"Master Groot, a word with you." A lay brother in the coarse, dark
robe of St. Benedict was standing in the booth of the Green Serpent.
Groot knew him for Brother Christopher of Monks Wearmouth, and
touched his brow in recognition.
"Have you here any balsam fit for a plaguey shot with an arquebuss,
the like of which our poor peaceful house never looked to harbour?"
"For whom is it needed, good brother?"
"Best not ask," said Brother Christopher, who was, however, an
inveterate gossip, and went on in reply to Lambert's question as to
the place of the wound. "In the shoulder is the worst, the bullet
wound where the Brother Infirmarer has poured in hot oil. St. Bede!
How the poor knight howled, though he tried to stop it, and brought
it down to moaning. His leg is broken beside, but we could deal with
that. His horse went down with him, you see, when he was overtaken
and shot down by the Gilsland folk.
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