paused until his friend and leader came up with him.

"A common road and a common goal," spoke Nevil.

"Ay!--common fools!" answered the other. "Who hearing of gray geese,
must think, forsooth, of a swan whose plumage turned from white to
black! And yet, God knows! to one, at least, the selfsame splendid swan;
if lost, then lost magnificently.... This is an idle errand."

"The youth is English," replied Nevil.

"Did you speak to Powell?"

"Ay; I told him that I should visit the hospital this night. We are
close at hand. Hark! that was the scream of a dying man. Christ rest
whatever soul hath taken flight!"

"There is a pale light surrounds this place," said Arden. "It comes from
the fires which they burn as though the black death were upon us. Do you
hear that groaning?--and there they carry out a weighted body. War!..."

A group of men moved towards them--Powell, a chirurgeon, a soldier or
two. Another minute and all were gathered before the hut of which Powell
had made mention. That worthy officer waved back their following, and
the three alone entered the dimly lighted place.

"The friar is not here," said Powell, in a tone of vexation. "Passing
this way, I did but look within to cheer the youth by some mention of
the honor that was intended him to-night. Now they tell me that the man
went to the forest ere sunset and hath not returned. Also that he gave