ht, Sir
John de Mandeville, who stopped twice at Beaulieu on his way to and from
Southampton, and discoursed to us concerning what he had seen from the
reader's desk in the refectory, until there was many a good brother who
got neither bit nor sup, so stricken were they by his strange tales."

"I would fain know, father," asked the young man, "what there may be at
the end of the world?"

"There are some things," replied the Abbot gravely, "into which it was
never intended that we should inquire. But you have a long road before
you. Whither will you first turn?"

"To my brother's at Minstead. If he be indeed an ungodly and violent
man, there is the more need that I should seek him out and see whether I
cannot turn him to better ways."

The Abbot shook his head. "The Socman of Minstead hath earned an evil
name over the country side," he said. "If you must go to him, see at
least that he doth not turn you from the narrow path upon which you have
learned to tread. But you are in God's keeping, and Godward should you
ever look in danger and in trouble. Above all, shun the snares of women,
for they are ever set for the foolish feet of the young. Kneel down, my
child, and take an old man's blessing."

Alleyne Edricson bent his head while the Abbot poured out his heartfelt
supplication that Heaven would watch over this young soul, now going
forth into the darkness and danger of the world. It was no mere form for
either of them. To them the outside life of mankind did indeed seem to
be one of violence and of sin, beset with physical and still more with
spiritual danger. Heaven, too, was very near to them in those days.
God's direct agency was to be seen in the thunder and the rainbow,
the whirlwind and the lightning. To the believer, clouds of angels and
confessors, and martyrs, armies of the sainted and the saved, were
ever stooping over their struggling brethren upon earth, raising,
encouraging, and supporting them. It was then with a lighter heart and
a stouter courage that the young man turned from the Abbot's room, while
the latter, following him to the stair-head, finally commended him to
the protection of the holy Julian, patron of travellers.

Underneath, in the porch of the Abbey, the monks had gathered to give
him a last God-speed. Many had brought some parting token by which he
should remember them. There was brother Bartholomew with a crucifix of
rare carved ivory, and brother Luke with a white-backed psalter