"Walked up towards the Watling-street, to watch for the Prior of
Jorvaulx."

"That is well thought on also," replied the Captain;--"and where is the
Friar?"

"In his cell."

"Thither will I go," said Locksley. "Disperse and seek your companions.
Collect what force you can, for there's game afoot that must be hunted
hard, and will turn to bay. Meet me here by daybreak.--And stay," he
added, "I have forgotten what is most necessary of the whole--Two of
you take the road quickly towards Torquilstone, the Castle of
Front-de-Boeuf. A set of gallants, who have been masquerading in such
guise as our own, are carrying a band of prisoners thither--Watch them
closely, for even if they reach the castle before we collect our force,
our honour is concerned to punish them, and we will find means to do so.
Keep a close watch on them therefore; and dispatch one of your comrades,
the lightest of foot, to bring the news of the yeomen thereabout."

They promised implicit obedience, and departed with alacrity on
their different errands. In the meanwhile, their leader and his two
companions, who now looked upon him with great respect, as well as some
fear, pursued their way to the Chapel of Copmanhurst.

When they had reached the little moonlight glade, having in front the
reverend, though ruinous chapel, and the rude hermitage, so well
suited to ascetic devotion, Wamba whispered to Gurth, "If this be the
habitation of a thief, it makes good the old proverb, The nearer the
church the farther from God.--And by my coxcomb," he added, "I think it
be even so--Hearken but to the black sanctus which they are singing in
the hermitage!"