One night, about the hour of
vespers, two men, habited in monkish apparel, came to the cell of the
Hermit of the Rock. After the usual salutation they entered, carrying
with them staff and scrip, as if bent on a long and weary travel.
"Whence come ye, and whither bound?" said the hermit, surveying the
intruders by the light of a solitary lamp that was burning in a niche,
wherein stood a skull and crucifix, emblems of our faith and our
mortality.
"We are from the Abbey of Stanlaw, on our way to Kirkstall in the
morning."
"Wherefore abide ye here? There is lodging and better cheer withal in
the castle above."
"We are under a vow, and rest not save on holy ground: we crave thy
hospitality, therefore, and shelter for the night."
"Is your errand to Kirkstall hidden, or is it an open embassage?"
"The Lady Fitz-Eustace sendeth greeting by our ministry unto the holy
abbot through our superior at Stanlaw, beseeching that he would make
diligent inquiry touching the will of Robert de Lacy, once lord of this
goodly heritage. She hath had news of his demise, and likewise another
message with an assurance that every of these possessions have been
devised to the Fitz-Eustace by his last will and testament.
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