"It is impossible that Allan-a-Dale can have thus treated a man of your
reverend bearing," replied the Captain.

"It is true as the gospel of Saint Nicodemus," said the Prior; "he
swore, with many a cruel north-country oath, that he would hang me up on
the highest tree in the greenwood."

"Did he so in very deed? Nay, then, reverend father, I think you had
better comply with his demands--for Allan-a-Dale is the very man to
abide by his word when he has so pledged it." [43] "You do but jest with me," said the astounded Prior, with a forced
laugh; "and I love a good jest with all my heart. But, ha! ha! ha! when
the mirth has lasted the livelong night, it is time to be grave in the
morning."

"And I am as grave as a father confessor," replied the Outlaw; "you must
pay a round ransom, Sir Prior, or your convent is likely to be called to
a new election; for your place will know you no more."

"Are ye Christians," said the Prior, "and hold this language to a
churchman?"

"Christians! ay, marry are we, and have divinity among us to boot,"
answered the Outlaw. "Let our buxom chaplain stand forth, and expound to
this reverend father the texts which concern this matter."