"
"I pledge you," said brother Michael. The little friar
smiled and filled his cup. "He will draw the long bow,"
pursued brother Michael, "with any bold yeoman among them all."
"Don't talk of the long bow," said the abbot, who had the sound
of the arrow still whizzing in his ear: "what have we pillars
of the faith to do with the long bow?"
"Be that as it may," said Sir Ralph, "he is an outlaw from this moment."
"So much the worse for the law then," said brother Michael. "The law
will have a heavier miss of him than he will have of the law.
He will strike as much venison as ever, and more of other game.
I know what I say: but basta: Let us drink."
"What other game?" said the little friar. "I hope he won't poach
among our partridges."
"Poach! not he," said brother Michael: "if he wants your partridges,
he will strike them under your nose (here's to you), and drag your
trout-stream for you on a Thursday evening."
"Monstrous! and starve us on fast-day," said the little friar.
"But that is not the game I mean," said brother Michael.
"Surely, son Michael," said the abbot, "you do not mean to insinuate
that the noble earl will turn freebooter?"
"A man must live," said brother Michael, "earl or no. If the law
takes his rents and beeves without his consent, he must take beeves
and rents where he can get them without the consent of the law.
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