ck beard. Such a visage,
joined to the brawny form of the holy man, spoke rather of sirloins and
haunches, than of pease and pulse. This incongruity did not escape the
guest. After he had with great difficulty accomplished the mastication
of a mouthful of the dried pease, he found it absolutely necessary
to request his pious entertainer to furnish him with some liquor; who
replied to his request by placing before him a large can of the purest
water from the fountain.

"It is from the well of St Dunstan," said he, "in which, betwixt sun and
sun, he baptized five hundred heathen Danes and Britons--blessed be his
name!" And applying his black beard to the pitcher, he took a draught
much more moderate in quantity than his encomium seemed to warrant.

"It seems to me, reverend father," said the knight, "that the small
morsels which you eat, together with this holy, but somewhat thin
beverage, have thriven with you marvellously. You appear a man more
fit to win the ram at a wrestling match, or the ring at a bout at
quarter-staff, or the bucklers at a sword-play, than to linger out your
time in this desolate wilderness, saying masses, and living upon parched
pease and cold water."

"Sir Knight," answered the hermit, "your thoughts, like those of the
ignorant laity, are according to the flesh. It has pleased Our Lady and
my patron saint to bless the pittance to which I restrain myself, even
as the pulse and water was blessed to the children Shadrach, Meshech,
and Abednego, who drank the same rather than defile themselves with the
wine and meats which were appointed them by the King of the Saracens."

"Holy father," said the knight, "upon whose countenance it hath pleased
Heaven to work such a miracle, permit a sinful layman to crave thy
name?"

"Thou mayst call me," answered the hermit, "the Clerk of Copmanhurst,
for so I am termed in these parts--They add, it is true, the
epithet holy, but I stand not upon that, as being unworthy of such
addition.--And now, valiant knight, may I pray ye for the name of my
honourable guest?"

"Truly," said the knight, "Holy Clerk of Copmanhurst, men call me in
these parts the Black Knight,--many, sir, add to it the epithet of
Sluggard, whereby I am no way ambitious to be distinguished."

The hermit could scarcely forbear from smiling at his guest's reply.

"I see," said he, "Sir Sluggish Knight, that thou art a man of prudence
and of counsel; and moreover, I see that my poor monastic f