" the leader said, angrily.
"Who was to guess it was a monk, who was thus striding along?"

"You would find it difficult to walk, yourself, with this robe dangling
about your heels," Roger said.

"Whither are you bound, and whence are you going?"

"We are travelling to Dunbar, being sent to the convent of Saint Magnus
there, and come from Roxburgh."

"'Tis a shame that so stalwart a fellow as you are should be leading a
drone's life, in a convent; when every true Scotsman is sharpening his
spear, in readiness for what may come when the truce with England
expires."

"I am glad to hear that you are so well employed," Roger replied; "but
methinks that, in days like these, it is sometimes useful to have a few
men of thews and sinews, even in a religious house; for there are those
who sometimes fail in the respect they owe to the Church."

"That is true enough," the men laughed. "Well, go thy way. There is
naught to be gained from a travelling monk."

"Naught, good friend, save occasionally hard blows, when the monk
happens to be of my strength and stature, and carries a staff like
this."

"'Tis a goodly weapon, in sooth, and you look as if you knew how to
wield it."

"Even a monk may know that, seeing that a staff is not a carnal
weapon."

And rolling up his sleeves, Roger took the staff in the middle with
both hands, in the manner of a quarterstaff, and made it play round his
head; with a speed, and vigour, that showed that he was a complete
master of the exercise.

"Enough, enough!" the man said, while exclamations of admiration broke
from the others. "Truly from such a champion, strong enough to wield a
weapon that resembles a weaver's beam, rather than a quarterstaff,
there would be more hard knocks than silver to be gained; but it is all
the more pity that such skill and strength should be thrown away, in a
convent. Perhaps it is as well that you are wearing a monk's gown, for
methinks that, eight to one as we are, some of us might have got broken
heads, before we gained the few pence in your pocket.

"Come on, men. Better luck next time. It is clear that this man is not
the one we are charged to capture."

And, with his followers, he rode off across the moor.

"I do not think that they are what they seem," Oswald said, as they
resumed their journey. "The man's speech was not that of a border
raider, and his followers would hardly have sat their horses so
silently, and obeyed his orders so promptly,