:52 THE TEMPLARS IX CYPRUS. Tho way to him more easily by far, Than, when onco found, you can go back from him. FRANK. You speak in riddles. PHILIP. You're a walking riddle ! For by your pointed shoes with bells, forsooth ! And by your jingling doublet, who could tell If you a sexton or a court-fool were ! FRANK. You aro a jester !—Show me to tho Master. PHILIP. Look straight before you—past tho Crucifix— Along tho wall—there through tho trellis-door A pigeon-house—you leave it on the left. Now comes a brook—is't not so ? A grey man Is standing by it with a stable-bucket— Now ho draws water—that's the Master Molay ! FRAXK. That small thin man, who wears a trooper's jacket, And like a groom a bucket holds ? You jest ! PHILIP. Yon mannikin, tho man whom you call small Is such a man that spite his sixty years A dozen such light, child-men ho could bear To our dear Lady of the Mount, pick-back, As lightly as he now fate's mill-stone bears. FRANK. Yet say why the Grand Master of the Order Does servant's work ? PniLiP. Nay, rather tell me why You plant the cabbage by another hand,