Sir John Constantine
Of these two friends of my father I shall speak in their proper place, but have given up this first chapter to him alone. My readers maybe will grumble that it omits to tell what they would first choose to learn: the reason why he had exchanged fame and the world for a Cornish exile. But as yet he only--and perhaps my uncle Gervase, who kept the accounts--held the key to that secret.
I RIDE ON A PILGRIMAGE.
"_Heus Rogere! fer caballos; Eja, nunc eamus!" Domum.
At Winchester, which we boys (though we fared hardly) never doubted to be the first school in the world, as it was the most ancient in England, we had a song we called _Domum_: and because our comm