and Australian deserts. The eyes of the monk glittered with glee; he dearly loved savoury food, and abstinence was a sore trial to him.
"Eat of them as you will," said Erceldoune, as he laid them on the slab of rock that served as a table. "They are better than rye bread, at any rate; and if you fear the Brethren, not a soul can see you here. You seem very strict in your Order?"
The Umbrian sighed, and shook his little brown bullet head, while he betook himself to the precious banquet in silence.
"Yet you have a woman in your holy walls?" He spoke abruptly; it was fearful to him to speak of her, and he could have better loved to force the answer out by a sterner mode than words.
The Umbrian started, and flushed guiltily.
"Nay, my son, you make a strange error. By all the saints of the calendar, nothing feminine ever "
"Spare your perjuries, father. I saw her yonder."
He motioned his head backward to the frowning wall behind them; his pulses beat like sledge-hammers as he spoke.
