on with a cudgel.

Hilarius gazed horrified from the retreating figure to his laughing
companion, who answered the unspoken question.

"A rascal, lad, yon carrion, and no holy father. They are the pest
of every country-side, these lazy rogues, who never do a hand's
turn and yet live better than many a squire. I warrant he has good
stuff in that larder of his to make merry with."

Hilarius walked on for some time in silence with bent head.

"I fear the world is an ill place and far from godliness," he said
at last.

"It will look thus to one cloister-bred, and 'tis true enough that
godliness is far from most men; but if a hermit's robe may cover a
rascal, often enough a good heart lies under an ill-favoured face
and tongue. See, lad," as another turn in the road brought them in
sight of Westminster, "there lies thy new world, God keep thee in
it!"

He pointed to a grey-walled city rising from the water's edge, with
roof and pinnacle, gable and turret, aflame in the light of the
western sky; in front flowed the river like a stream of molten
gold.

Hilarius gave a little cry.

"'Tis like the New Jerusalem!" he said, and Martin smiled grimly.