through the clear waters and breasting the opposite bank resumed the
march at a rapid walk. Presently a body of horsemen hove in sight and,
as they approached, De Lacy eyed them carefully. They were less than a
dozen in number, and though they displayed no banner, yet the sun
gleamed from steel head-pieces and chamfrons. The man in front,
however, was plainly not in armor and his horse was strangely small.
Then, as the distance was reduced, the horse became an ass and the
rider the Abbot of Kirkstall.

"You travel early, Lord Abbot," said Aymer, as they met and halted.

"It is of our calling, my son. Religion knows no night. But you also
must have risen early--on your way to the Coronation--Deo volente?"
with a quizzical smile.

"As fast as horse will carry me."

"Perchance you may overtake the Duke of Gloucester; he left York
to-day, I believe."

"He has rather a long start, methinks, for a stern chase," replied
Aymer.

"Six hundred men move not so quickly as twelve, my son," said the monk.
"Indeed, you might come up with him at Nottingham," he added carelessly.

"Peradventure, yes--Deo volente," wondering how much the Abbot knew of
the matter and how much was shrewd conjecture. "But will not your
reverence attend the Coronation? There is sure to be a brave array of
churchmen there."