"One wants something in one's hands," he said. "On foot it does not
matter so much, but now I am on horseback again, I feel that I ought to
have a spear in hand, and a sword dangling at my side."
"You must remember that you are still a monk, Roger, although enlarged
for a season. Some day, perhaps, you will be able to gratify your
desires in that way. You had best moderate the speed of your horse, for
although he ambles along merrily, at present, he can never carry that
great carcase of yours, at this pace, through our journey."
"I should like one good gallop," Roger sighed, as he pulled at the
rein, and the horse proceeded at a pace better suited to the appearance
of its rider.
"A nice figure you would look, with your robes streaming behind you,"
Oswald laughed. "There would soon be a story going through the country,
of a mad monk.
"Now, we take this turning to the right, and here leave the main north
road, for we are bound, in the first place, to Roxburgh."
"I thought that it must be that, or Berwick, though I asked no
questions."
"We shall not travel like this beyond Roxburgh, but shall journey
forward on foot."
"I supposed that we should come to that, Master Oswald, for otherwise
you would not have told me to provide myself with a staff.
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