and restore my mails, send with all speed an hundred crowns to be expended in masses at the high altar of Jorvaulx Abbey, and make your vow to eat no venison until next Pentecost, it may be you shall hear little more of this mad frolic."
"Holy Father," said the chief Outlaw, "it grieves me to think that you have met with such usage from any of my followers, as calls for your fatherly reprehension."
"Usage!" echoed the priest, encouraged by the mild tone of the sylvan leader; "it were usage fit for no hound of good race—much less for a Christian—far less for a priest—and least of all for the Prior of the holy community of Jorvaulx. Here is a profane and drunken minstrel, called Allan-a-Dale—nebulo quidam—who has menaced me with corporeal punishment—nay, with death itself, an I pay not down four hundred crowns of ransom, to the boot all the treasure of which he hath robbed me—gold chains and gymmal rings to an unknown value; besides what is broken and spoiled among their rude
