“Safe thou art,” replied De Bracy; “and for Christianity, here is the stout Baron Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, whose utter abomination is a Jew; and the good Knight Templar, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, whose trade is to slay Saracens⁠—If these are not good marks of Christianity, I know no other which they bear about them.”

“Ye are friends and allies of our reverend father in God, Aymer, Prior of Jorvaulx,” said the monk, without noticing the tone of De Bracy’s reply; “ye owe him aid both by knightly faith and holy charity; for what saith the blessed Saint Augustin, in his treatise De Civitate Dei ⁠—”

“What saith the devil!” interrupted Front-de-Boeuf; “or rather what dost thou say, Sir Priest? We have little time to hear texts from the holy fathers.”

“Sancta Maria!” ejaculated Father Ambrose, “how prompt to ire are these unhallowed laymen!⁠—But be it known to you, brave knights, that certain murderous caitiffs, casting behind them fear of God, and reverence of his church, and not regarding the bull of the holy see, Si quis, suadende Diabolo ⁠—”

“Brother priest,” said the Templar, “all this we know or guess at⁠—tell us plainly, is thy master, the Prior, made prisoner, and to whom?”

“Surely,” said Ambrose, “he is in the hands of the men of Belial, infesters of these woods, and contemners of the holy text, ‘Touch not mine anointed, and do my prophets naught of evil.’ ”

“Here is a new argument for our swords, sirs,” said Front-de-Boeuf, turning to his companions; “and so, instead of reaching us any assistance, the Prior of Jorvaulx requests aid at our hands? a man is well helped of these lazy churchmen when he hath most to do!⁠—But speak out, priest, and say at once, what doth thy master expect from us?”