s there."

"I am not an idler, my good lord."

"Only over his books," said the prior.

"That is because I prefer the lance and the bow to pot hooks and
hangers on parchment."

The boy spoke out fearlessly, almost pertly, like a spoiled child.
Yet he had a winning manner, which reconciled his elders to his
freedom.

"Now, go back to thy pot hooks and hangers, my boy, for the
present," said the earl; "and tomorrow, perchance, I may take thee
with me, if the storm abate.

"And now," said the earl, when Hubert was gone, "send for the other
lad; the waif and stray from the forest."

So Hubert retired and Martin appeared. It was by no means an
uninteresting face, that which the earl now scanned, but quite
unlike the features of Hubert--a round face, contrasting with the
oval outlines of the other--with twinkling eyes and curling hair; a
face which ought to be lit up with smiles, but which was sad for
the moment. Poor boy! he had just parted from his mother.

"Art thou willing to go away with me, my child?"

"Yes," said he sadly, "since she told me to go; but I love her."

"Thy name is Martin?"

"Yes; they call me so now."

"What is thy other name?"

"I know not. I have no other."

"Wouldst thou fear to return to the green wood?"

"Yes, for they might call me a traitor, and serve me as they served
Jack, the shoe smith, when he betrayed their plans."

"And how was that?"

"Tied him to a tree and shot him to death with arrows. How he did
scream!"

"What! didst thou see such a sight, a young boy like thee?"

"Yes," said Martin innocently; "why shouldn't I?"

There was a pause.

"Poor child," said the prior.

"My boy, thou should say 'my lord,' when addressing a titled earl."

"I did not know, my lord. I beg pardon, my lord, if I have been
rude, my lord."

"Nay, thou hast already made up the tale of 'my lords.'"

"You will not let them get me again, my lord?"

"They couldn't get in here, and tomorrow, if the storm cease, I
shall take thee away with me. Fear not, my poor boy. If thou hast
for a while lost a mother, thou hast found a father."

The boy sighed. Affection is not so easily transferred; and the
earl quite comprehended that sigh; as a strange interest, almost
unaccountable, he thought, sprang up in his manly breast for the
little nestling, thrown so strangely upon his protection and care.

Brave as a lion with the proud, gentle as a lamb with the weak and
defenceless, such was Simon