YOUNG HERONS IN TRAINING 115 



swift-winged cast of falcons the spiral flight, 

 the lofty poise, the sudden swoop on an out- 

 distanced quarry, the trained return to lure and 

 glove. Into their souls, thralled in the service of 

 Mother Church, crept, perchance, a disturbing 

 envy as they viewed the bright train of lords and 

 ladies galloping across the wind-swept marsh ; 

 then self-reproached for their own levity, yet 

 longing for the transient vanities of life, they 

 returned from the garden to the cloistered at- 

 mosphere of grave-like peace, and at their orisons 

 sought, with the recitation of creed and pater- 

 noster, to subdue the desire of the world, and, 

 in duty bounden, prayed that this latest and 

 most searching temptation of the flesh might be 

 cast out. 



Directly the monks passed through the garden 

 gate towards the ponds, the heron rose into the 

 air, and, throwing back her stilt-like legs and 

 arching her supple neck, winged slowly off 

 towards the heronry. Thence, as soon as the 

 morning's sport was over, Renoult followed, 

 but he saw neither the old birds nor the fledg- 

 lings in the nest. So, taking the nearest course 

 through the leafy woods, he climbed to the crest 

 of the dingle, and found the object of his search 

 by the lake below. She was not alone ; follow- 

 ing her to and fro in the shallows were three 

 other birds, whose smaller size and unkempt 



