the
French landed at Pevensey; and I walked the horse about and about it that
lee-long summer night. The farmer thought he was bewitched--well, he _was_,
of course--and began to pray and shout. _I_ didn't care! I was as good a
Christian as he any fair-day in the County, and about four o'clock in the
morning a young novice came along from the monastery that used to stand on
the top of Beacon hill.'

'What's a novice?' said Dan.

'It really means a man who is beginning to be a monk, but in those days
people sent their sons to a monastery just the same as a school. This
young fellow had been to a monastery in France for a few months every
year, and he was finishing his studies in the monastery close to his home
here. Hugh was his name, and he had got up to go fishing hereabouts. His
people owned all this valley. Hugh heard the farmer shouting, and asked
him what in the world he meant. The old man spun him a wonderful tale
about fairies and goblins and witches; and I _know_ he hadn't seen a thing
except rabbits and red deer all that night. (The People of the Hills are
like otters--they don't show except when they choose.) But the novice
wasn't a fool. He looked down at the horse's feet, and saw the new shoes
fastened as only Weland knew how to fasten 'em. (Weland had a way of
turning down the nails that folks called the Smith's Clinch.)

'"H'm!" said the novice. "Where did you get your horse shod?"

'The farmer wouldn't tell him at first, because the priests never liked
their people to have any dealings with the Old Things. At last he
confessed that the Smith had done it. "What did you pay him?" said the
novice. "Penny," said the farmer, very sulkily. "That's less than a
Christian would have charged," said the novice. "I hope you threw a 'Thank
you' into the bargain." "No," said the farmer; "Wayland-Smith's a
heathen." "Heathen or no heathen," said the novice, "you took his help,
and where you get help there you must give thanks." "What?" said the
farmer--he was in a furious temper because I was walking the old horse in
circles all this time--"What, you young jackanapes?" said he. "Then by your
reasoning I ought to say 'Thank you' to Satan if he helped me?" "Don't
roll about up there splitting reasons with me," said the novice. "Come
back to the Ford and thank the Smith, or you'll be sorry."

'Back the farmer had to go! I led the horse, though no one saw me, and the
novice walked beside us, his gown swishing through th