 approach, Wamba could not be
prevented from lingering occasionally on the road, upon, every pretence which
occurred; now catching from the hazel a cluster of half-ripe nuts, and now
turning his head to leer after a cottage maiden who crossed their path. The
horsemen, therefore, soon overtook them on the road.
    Their numbers amounted to ten men, of whom the two who rode foremost seemed
to be persons of considerable importance, and the others their attendants. It
was not difficult to ascertain the condition and character of one of these
personages. He was obviously an ecclesiastic of high rank; his dress was that of
a Cistercian monk, but composed of materials much finer than those which the
rule of that order admitted. His mantle and hood were of the best Flanders
cloth, and fell in ample, and not ungraceful folds, around a handsome, though
somewhat corpulent person. His countenance bore as little the marks of
self-denial, as his habit indicated contempt of worldly splendour. His features
might have been called good, had there not lurked under the pent-house of his
eye, that sly epicurean twinkle which indicates the cautious voluptuary. In
other respects, his profession and situation had taught him a ready command over
his countenance, which he could contract at pleasure into solemnity, although
its natural expression was that of good-humoured social indulgence. In defiance
of conventual rules, and the edicts of popes and councils, the sleeves of this
dignitary were lined and turned up with rich furs, his mantle secured at the
throat with a golden clasp, and the whole dress proper to his order as much
refined upon and ornamented, as that of a Quaker beauty of the present day, who,
while she retains the garb and costume of her sect, continues to give to its
simplicity, by the choice of materials and the mode of disposing them, a certain
air of coquettish attraction, savouring but too much of the vanities of the
world.
    This worthy churchman rode upon a well-fed ambling mule, whose furniture was
highly decorated, and whose bridle, according to the fashion of the day, was
ornamented with silver bells. In his seat he had nothing of the awkwardness of
the convent, but displayed the easy and habitual grace of a well-trained
horseman. Indeed, it seemed that so humble a conveyance as a mule, in however
good case, and however well broken to a pleasant and accommodating amble, was
only used by the gallant monk for travelling on the road. A lay brother, one of
those who followed in the train, had, for his use
