write, nor have much practice in the tools of the clerk. Tell the abbot
the Archbishop of Rouen thanks him for his courtesy, and that this
paper--this paper was written by some foe of other days that chooses
thus to strike the fallen. Canst thou carry that."

I said I could, but I thought that there was an ill lie behind his
words.

"Hist, good lad, what is thy name?" said he.

"Nigel de Bessin, nephew of the Vicomte of St. Sauveur," I answered.

He pondered and gazed at me curiously. "Ay, well I knew thy grandsire,
the old vicomte," said he. "And thine uncle has had of me other gifts
than shriving."

Now it came into my heart to ask him of my father, since he knew my
grandsire and my uncle; so I said boldly--

"And didst thou know my father?"

"Ay, I knew him--I knew him," said he; "but what do they tell thee of
him?"

"Nothing, in sooth, my lord," I answered; "and bid me wait till my
pupilage is over."

"Then I may tell thee naught more than thou knowest, save that we were
good friends. Thou wilt not long be bearing missives for your abbot, if
thou art like thy sires. Thou art soon for Normandy?"