y and
sweet wine; and when they had drunk to each other comradely, and the fire
had been replenished and blazed up again, the pair lay at full length,
thawing and steaming, and divinely warm.

"Master Shelton," observed the outlaw, "y' 'ave had two mischances this
last while, and y' are like to lose the maid--do I take it aright?"

"Aright!" returned Dick, nodding his head.

"Well, now," continued Lawless, "hear an old fool that hath been
nigh-hand everything, and seen nigh-hand all! Ye go too much on other
people's errands, Master Dick. Ye go on Ellis's; but he desireth rather
the death of Sir Daniel. Ye go on Lord Foxham's; well--the saints
preserve him!--doubtless he meaneth well. But go ye upon your own, good
Dick. Come right to the maid's side. Court her, lest that she forget
you. Be ready; and when the chance shall come, off with her at the
saddle-bow."

"Ay, but, Lawless, beyond doubt she is now in Sir Daniel's own mansion."
answered Dick.

"Thither, then, go we," replied the outlaw.

Dick stared at him.

"Nay, I mean it," nodded Lawless. "And if y' are of so little faith, and
stumble at a word, see here!"

And the outlaw, taking a key from about his neck, opened the oak chest,
and dipping and groping deep among its contents, produced first a friar's
robe, and next a girdle of rope; and then a huge rosary of wood, heavy
enough to be counted as a weapon.

"Here," he said, "is for you. On with them!"

And then, when Dick had clothed himself in this clerical disguise,
Lawless produced some colours and a pencil, and proceeded, with the
greatest cunning, to disguise his face. The eyebrows he thickened and
produced; to the moustache, which was yet hardly visible, he rendered a
like service; while, by a few lines around the eye, he changed the
expression and increased the apparent age of this young monk.

"Now," he resumed, "when I have done the like, we shall make as bonny a
pair of friars as the eye could wish. Boldly to Sir Daniel's we shall
go, and there be hospitably welcome for the love of Mother Church."

"And how, dear Lawless," cried the lad, "shall I repay you?"

"Tut, brother," replied the outlaw, "I do naught but for my pleasure.
Mind not for me. I am one, by the mass, that mindeth for himself. When
that I lack, I have a long tongue and a voice like the monastery bell--I
do ask, my son; and where asking faileth, I do most usually take."

The old rogue made a humorous grimace; an