THE DISTANT LAMP
 
 THE DISTANT LAMP 
 
 BY 
 
 HAROLD BEGBIE 
 
 AUTHOR OF "BROKEN EARTHENWARE," ETC. 
 
 TORONTO 
 
 THE MUSSON BOOK COMPANY LIMITED 
 LONDON : HODDER & STOUGHTON
 
 TO 
 
 MY FRIEND 
 
 ARTHUR MEE 
 
 CREATOR AND EDITOR OF 
 ' THE CHILDREN'S MAGAZINE 
 
 09901 "?1 
 
 a >t-^*-vl\J-- -1
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PACK 
 
 A PANIC IN THE STREETS 1 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 MISSING . . . . 14 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 THE CALL . . ... 27 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 A MAN COMES RUNNING . . 34 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 GASPARD'S RETURN . 46
 
 viii CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A PRIEST EXPLAINS 57 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 FAREWELL . . ... 66 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 A LAST GIFT . . ... 75 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 GASPARD PERFORMS A MIRACLE, AND PROPHESIES . 84 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 LAST APPEALS . . ... 92 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 THE MINIATURE . . . . 100 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 FELIX DISAPPEARS . Ill
 
 CONTENTS ix 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 I'AGE 
 
 STEPHEN'S FAVOURITE DISCIPLE . . .120 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 THE PURPLE ROBE . . . 127 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION . . . 135 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 FACE TO FACE . . ... 146 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 FALAISE REALLY BELIEVES . . . 153 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 THE DARK HOUSE. . ... 163 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 WOUNDED . . . . 169
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 PACK 
 
 THE SEA 179 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 SHIPS OF GOD . . ... 192 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 THE STORM . . . 201 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 BETRAYED . . ... 208 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 A RUSE . . ... 214 
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 SLAVERY on DEATH? . ... 225 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 THE MARKET . 241
 
 CONTENTS xi 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 PAGE 
 
 HOLY LAXD 248 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 PARTED . . . ... 257 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 LIKE GASPARD . . ... 263 
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 MUSTARD SEED . . ... 277 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 BRINGING HIS SHEAVES . . . 288
 
 CHAPTER I 
 A PANIC IN THE STREETS 
 
 AS you may chance to espy, in following the 
 JL solemn curves of a great river, some bright, 
 exquisite, and delicious little rustling stream hidden 
 nun-like from the glare of the sun by a convent of 
 green trees ; and as you may feel in this whispering 
 and timorous charity of the lofty hills a charm more 
 Ultimate than the big river has yet given you, and 
 find yourself overcome by a desire to penetrate 
 those dim and verdurous shadows, to rest for a little 
 while hi sound of that unfailing music ; so in certain 
 minor events tributary to the immense river of 
 history, even the severe scholar may discover a 
 tenderness, a beauty, and a charm more beguiling 
 than comes to him from the main channel, and 
 gladly turn aside to rest his attention and refresh 
 his emotions, though it be but for a languorous hour, 
 with these beautiful and childlike beatings of the 
 human heart. 
 
 Such an event happened in France at the begin- 
 ning of the thirteenth century at the time a great 
 event, indeed, as strange and marvellous a thing as
 
 2 A PANIC IN THE STREETS 
 
 ever happened in the world, a thing absolutely 
 single and unique, but now forgotten or unknown, 
 almost as if it had never been. The flood has not 
 dwindled to a rivulet, but has vanished from the 
 fields of time ; the whirlwind has not sunk to a 
 whisper, but has died into the silence of the grave. 
 The wonder, the rapture, the terror, the bitter 
 anguish and accompanying crime of this unique 
 occurrence, have become like the pavement in- 
 scription of a cathedral tomb which the oblivious 
 feet of those gazing upwards at the roof have trodden 
 out of knowledge. Nevertheless, the marvellous 
 thing happened ; it was real ; it is true. Let us, 
 then, if you are curious in such matters, endeavour 
 to read that almost obliterated record of the past 
 which the historian has ignored, and build again 
 from the few broken and disfigured letters which 
 seven hundred years have spared to us, the story 
 of that great event, the spirit of that distant time. 
 
 In the year 1212 there lived in the little town of 
 Chateauneuf, which is now a part of Tours, a 
 prosperous merchant and money-changer named 
 Nicholas Rigny. Sharp and masterful in his 
 business, a man without mercy where money was 
 concerned, he surrendered everything to do with the 
 family life into the hands of his wife. 
 
 He would say of himself, " I am something like 
 a cat : in my shop I catch mice ; at my hearth, I
 
 A PANIC IN THE STREETS 3 
 
 sleep," and he would boast, blinking his eyes, 
 rubbing his soft hands, and moistening his pale 
 lips, that Dame Elisabeth managed the household 
 almost as well as he managed his trade. 
 
 There were three children in this family Gaspard, 
 the eldest, a strong, scornful and rather silent lad of 
 eighteen ; Falaise, an excitable pretty girl, nearly 
 sixteen ; and Hildebert, the darling of the house, a 
 charming but delicate boy, twelve years of age. 
 
 It was by the advocacy of their mother that 
 neither of the boys was forced to follow the father's 
 trade. Gaspard worked with a physician and spent 
 much of his leisure with one of those barbers who 
 first founded the great science of surgery. He was a 
 boy curious about life and bent to discover some of 
 its mysteries. He had no liking for his father's 
 business, and was without desire for wealth. Vexed 
 and angered as the money-changer was by what he 
 considered this low and superstitious taste of his 
 eldest son, he allowed the good mother to have her 
 way and left the boy to grow up in the shape of his 
 own inclinations. 
 
 As for Hildebert, he lived at a table with brushes, 
 earths, and vellums, illuminating sacred books, 
 dreaming of angels, and longing for miracles. 
 Falaise, at her needlework, would look up and watch 
 his smiling and enraptured face with wonder, some- 
 times calh'ng him by name four and five times before 
 he would hear her. * Will you be a priest ? ' she
 
 4 A PANIC IN THE STREETS 
 
 once asked him. ' No,' he answered, still working 
 with his brush. ' A monk ? ' ' I do not think so.' 
 ' What, then ? ' He glanced at her quickly with his 
 grey eyes and said, ' I should like to be a saint and 
 do miracles.' 
 
 Falaise would sometimes catch this rapture from 
 the little bo}*-, and would go to the shrine of St. 
 Martin and pray for long minutes on her bended 
 knees, her pretty face hidden by her hot hands, her 
 heart fluttering with excited thoughts of God. But 
 the very next day she would be laughing with 
 Gaspard at the priests, and mocking the pilgrims 
 who poured from all quarters of the world into 
 Chateauneuf. Or she would be found in secret with 
 a girl friend, painting her face in the fashion of those 
 days, or dressing herself in glittering clothes which 
 would have angered her mother no more thought 
 of heaven in her heart than Gaspard could have 
 found with his razor in the brain of a pigeon. 
 
 The house in which this family lived may be seen 
 to this day, standing back from the market-place in 
 a dark and tortuous street called Rue Bri9onnet, 
 after the first mayor of Tours. The dwelling has 
 suffered a thousand insults and degradations, but 
 in the narrow windows of the first floor, still orna- 
 mented with five pointed arches which spring from 
 brief and slender columns, we may catch a glimpse 
 of its former splendour and imagine something of 
 the vanished life within. Often did Falaise look
 
 A PANIC IN THE STREETS 5 
 
 from one of those windows at the tide of pilgrims 
 pouring up from the river Loire to the famous 
 shrine of St. Martin ; and while that pretty blushing 
 face framed in white stone attracted a hundred eyes 
 to look upwards, the chink of coins below, where 
 Nicholas under the groined vaulting of his shop was 
 busy at his trade, invited as many feet to step into 
 that dark ulterior and change poor foreign money 
 into solid French. Something else may be said of 
 those windows on the first floor, which now look 
 down on a cobbled street as clean as a ship's deck. 
 Often during the day, for she was a good housewife, 
 Dame Elisabeth would come there hastily, pail in 
 hand, and with a mechanical cry to those below, 
 ' Ware water ! ' would shoot the contents into the 
 road below, and then turn quickly back to her work. 
 There were no drains in those days. The trodden 
 mud of the road, where pigs and dogs hunted for 
 food, was indescribably horrible. The atmosphere 
 of a city reeked with evil odours ; Paris itself could 
 be smelt miles before it was reached. People who 
 washed once a week thought themselves extra- 
 ordinarily clean. The corridors, staircases and even 
 the rooms of castles and palaces were like stables. 
 Decency did not exist. The fork was not invented ; 
 everyone, from king to beggar, ate with their hands 
 on a bare table, and sucked their ringers afterwards. 
 The poor starved ; the rich stuffed themselves into 
 apoplexy. Conversation was coarse and boastful.
 
 6 A PANIC IN THE STREETS 
 
 Priest, monk, and nun, for the most part, were 
 given over to wickedness. Everywhere it was the 
 same. Some of the men who had been to the 
 Crusades declared that the Moslem was a better man 
 and a cleaner animal than the Christian. 
 
 But in spite of all these horrors, Chateauneuf was 
 a proud and arrogant city. The noble towers of its 
 many churches, the pointed gables of its clustering 
 houses, the beauty of its white walls and carven 
 stone, gave it a rich, solid, and splendid appearance. 
 Then, too, there were its countless inns, numerous 
 monasteries for men and women, endless shops of 
 goldsmith, leather seller, potter, weaver, and worker 
 in ivory a packed mass of buildings curving 
 fantastically, the little streets twisting here and 
 there, diving into shadows, plunging into darkness, 
 emerging into flooding light, and all leading eventu- 
 ally to the great cathedral of St. Martin then a- 
 building from its former rums. 
 
 The people of Tours, looking across a narrow 
 space planted with vines and gardens, saw this 
 prosperity of their haughty neighbours with uneasy 
 eyes. They, too, were building a great cathedral 
 a cathedral to St. Maurice but they had to 
 acknowledge that St. Martin was the better man 
 of business. Slowly, very slowly, rose that superb 
 cathedral of Tours, so that it became a phrase to say 
 of any long and wearisome proceeding, ' It is 
 interminable ; it is the work of St. Maurice.' And
 
 A PANIC IN THE STREETS 7 
 
 this phrase continued even when the name of the 
 cathedral was changed, for the sake of money, and 
 when as St. Gatien it had become one of the loveliest 
 accomplishments of human art, a wonder of the 
 world, a delight to all the generations. 
 
 Certainly St. Martin was the better man of 
 business. He had performed I know not how many 
 miracles, so that people not only came to his shrine 
 from Germany, England, Italy, and Spam, but from 
 the far and distant East. Money of all the world 
 poured into that little city, and with the pilgrims 
 came the traders, till Chateauneuf, built over the 
 bones of St. Martin, was like a fair, and seemed as if 
 it might become the mart of all mankind. 
 
 A chronicler of that period has painted the 
 picture of this prosperity in a few words. ' The 
 people of Chateauneuf,' said he, * are rich and 
 ostentatious, and array themselves in the most 
 costly stuffs and furs. Their battlemented houses 
 are ornamented with tall towers. Always feasting, 
 they drink from goblets of gold and silver. They 
 play with cats and dice, and go bird hunting. They 
 build churches of stone with sculptured arcades, 
 and throw across the Loire, the Cher, and other 
 neighbouring rivers, bridges also of stone. The 
 beauty of the women is amazing. They rouge their 
 faces and wear magnificent garments. . . .' 
 
 Such was Chateauneuf at the beginning of our 
 story, when Gaspard was dreaming of surgery,
 
 8 A PANIC IN THE STREETS 
 
 Hildebert dreaming of miracles, Falaise dreaming 
 of love, while Nicholas was counting his gold under 
 the groined vaulting of his handsome shop, and 
 Elisabeth above was at work with the housewifery. 
 
 On a certain summer evening in July, when the 
 dark and twisting streets were so full with loitering 
 people that merchants riding on white mules, 
 peasants in rough carts, and bearers of fashionable 
 ladies reclining on sumptuous litters, owere obliged 
 to move at a snail's pace through the thronging 
 multitudes, a cry was suddenly raised which sped 
 like fire from street to street and instantly threw the 
 whole town into a state of excited consternation. 
 
 The cry was, Look to your children ! 
 
 For a long time no one could say where the cry 
 originated. Of its meaning there were instantly a 
 hundred interpretations in every street. One thing 
 only was sure, one thing only was plain the 
 children of the town were threatened. Men could 
 be seen running to their houses ; merchants came to 
 their doors ; women appeared at windows ; work- 
 people and apprentices, their tools in their hands, 
 appeared hurriedly in the streets asking what it 
 meant. The swarming mass of people, almost 
 stationary a moment ago, moved with the swiftness 
 of a winter tide and disappeared in all directions, 
 scattering the panic. Men seized up their little
 
 A PANIC IN THE STREETS 9 
 
 children and ran with them terror, anger, and 
 excitement in their eyes to the safety of their 
 houses. The taverns emptied themselves. Monks 
 stood in clusters at the doors of their monasteries. 
 Priests came from the churches. A woman ran 
 shrieking from St. Martin's shrine, her hands out- 
 spread, her eyes starting from her head. * What is 
 it ? what does it mean ? ' everyone was asking ; 
 and always the cry came back, Look to your 
 children ! 
 
 The very aim and repose of the tranquil atmo- 
 sphere were suddenly scattered. The west became 
 blood-red, and the air quivered in this scarlet 
 radiance with the menace of death. 
 
 A drunken man stood in the centre of a little 
 square, and shouted in a loud voice, ' Friends, what 
 have I told you ? It is the Jews, the hated Jews. 
 Curse them for the enemies of God ! ' 
 
 This cry was taken up and passed as quickly as 
 the other. ' Look to your children,' people shouted ; 
 ' the Jews are after them.' Everywhere one heard 
 that baleful cry, ' It is the Jews.' 
 
 Suddenly a Jew appeared at the corner of a street, 
 running. His face was like linen, his black hair 
 streamed behind him, his large eyes protruded from 
 their sockets, horrible with fear. He was pursued 
 by a crowd of men, yelling like hounds. The gasp- 
 ings of his breath were drowned by the furious cries 
 which now resounded from one end of the town to
 
 10 A PANIC IN THE STREETS 
 
 the other : ' Kill the Jews ! To death with the 
 Jews ! ' Someone flung a stone. The Jew yelped, 
 stumbled, and sped on. It was terrible to see how 
 his eyes appealed to right and left for succour. If he 
 could but reach the sanctuary of St. Martin ! If 
 some friendly door would but open to receive him 
 while there was yet time ! But the cries grew louder. 
 A man rushed from a dark court and struck the Jew 
 with a hammer. The unhappy creature, uttering 
 a piercing shriek, reeled, flung up his arms, and fell. 
 In a moment a shower of stones pelted him like rain. 
 A crimson streak trickled from his black hair and 
 dyed his livid cheeks where a great violet bruise was 
 just showing. He rolled over, lay quivering for a 
 few moments, and then was still. 
 
 ' To death with the Jews ! ' cried the infuriated 
 people. Hastily they picked up the stones and ran 
 off in search of other prey, shouting hoarsely their 
 cry of death. 
 
 The Jew had fallen at a few paces from the shop 
 of that barber-surgeon with whom Gaspard was 
 wont to foregather and discuss questions of science. 
 An operation on a peasant's poisoned finger had 
 kept the surgeon and his young friend busy at the 
 first outbreak of the panic ; but the murderous 
 crowd had hardly gathered up their stones and 
 dispersed when Gaspard sprang through the 
 doorway of this shop and ran to the body of the 
 Jew.
 
 A PANIC IN THE STREETS 11 
 
 He was still bending over the poor battered 
 corpse, fingering, listening, and watching for a sign 
 of life, when Peter the Barber came to his side. 
 
 'iDead ? ' asked the barber. 
 
 Gaspard glanced up. ' Yes,' he answered ; ' dead 
 as yesterday.' 
 
 A crowd was gathering. The barber looked about 
 him, kneeled suddenly at Gaspard's side, and 
 whispered in his ear, ' No ; not dead. Don't you 
 see why ? Come ! help me to carry him inside.' 
 
 They had begun to lift their burden, when a man 
 in the crowd cried angrily, ' Let the swine lie. Do 
 you hear, Master Barber ? let him lie and die in the 
 street, like a vile dog.' The rest of the men growled 
 their approval ; some of the women seized Peter 
 and Gaspard by the shoulders, shaking them, and 
 screaming : ' They would murder our innocent 
 children, these Jews ; let the infidel lie, let him die 
 in the road.' 
 
 Peter grinned and said softly, * My friends, do you 
 think I lift him for his good ? I am not a fool. 
 What do you think ? Keep quiet, I tell you, and 
 let me get the dog away before the militia come to 
 save him.' 
 
 But Gaspard, still supporting the dead man, said 
 in a loud voice, ' Why do you shriek against the 
 Jews ? What harm do they do you ? Infidels you 
 call them ? But this man worshipped the same God 
 as Christ did ! ' His dark eyes flashed ; there was
 
 12 A PANIC IN THE STREETS 
 
 scorn on his lips. He stood holding the body, and 
 surveying the people with contemptuous disdain. 
 
 ' Are you a Jew, then ? ' one demanded. 
 
 * They would murder our children ! ' cried some. 
 
 4 They deny Christ,' said the others. 
 
 ' And you ! ' answered Gaspard, with a ring in his 
 voice, ' do you not deny Christ when you murder 
 a man ? ' 
 
 Peter the Barber whispered to the man nearest to 
 him, ' Only let me get him quietly into my cellar ! 
 He shall not revive, that I promise you. Bless my 
 soul, does any man call me a fool ? ' 
 
 But the suspicions of the people were aroused. 
 Some of the men at the back of the crowd had been 
 whispering together. ' He wants to cut up the 
 body ! ' cried one. 'Ah, he's in search of a skeleton ! ' 
 said a second. In an instant the crowd was enraged. 
 They seized the poor dead Jew, dragged him from 
 the barber's arms, thrust Gaspard aside, and 
 violently flung the body to the ground. ' Let the 
 dogs finish it ! ' they said fiercely. 
 
 The barber laughed, tossing his head. Then he 
 looked at the body. ' What waste ! ' he exclaimed. 
 
 A moment afterwards a company of urban 
 militia, a forced body only lately called into exist- 
 ence, doubled on to the scene with long spears at 
 the shoulder which jumped and swayed with their 
 movement. Gaspard and the barber escaped from 
 the crowd, and made their way back to the shop.
 
 A PANIC IN THE STREETS 13 
 
 The boy's eyes were still flashing. His hands and 
 lips trembled. His breath came hi quick gasps. 
 
 * After dark ! ' said the barber, stroking his chin, 
 and glancing back over his shoulder. ' Yes, indeed, 
 after dark. H'm, we were a trifle too hasty. But, 
 after dark ! If the excitement keeps up, it may be 
 easy. Yes, bodies may be cheap ! Science, you see, 
 turns the violence of fools to the service of the wise. 
 We must learn, my child, to suffer fools gladly.'
 
 CHAPTER II 
 MISSING 
 
 AT the back of the money-changer's shop, in a 
 ^LJL little dark corner of the court, close by the 
 outside staircase which rose to the floor above, was 
 the family kitchen a small circular, Gothic building, 
 resembling a pepper-pot, with arched windows and 
 two or three slender chimneys shaped like pointed 
 pencils. 
 
 In this building Dame Elisabeth was busy at the 
 fire. A solitary oil-lamp gave a grudging light to 
 the dark interior, which was foggy with smoke and 
 steam, and heavy with the pungent smells of cook- 
 ing. Rushes strewed the floor. A low table, spot- 
 lessly clean but of dark and damaged wood, 
 occupied the centre of the room. At one end of the 
 table was a silver goblet ; in the centre a large loaf 
 of black bread. Benches without backs stood 
 against the walls. Round the large and open fire- 
 place, whose chimney was black with soot, a few 
 iron pots hung from hooks in the stone wall. Near 
 a credence of carved wood was a cask on rough 
 trestles. 
 
 14
 
 MISSING 15 
 
 The dame was anxious, and not about her cook- 
 ing. Her grim but noble face, on which the firelight 
 played, was marked by deep care. Gaspard, she 
 felt, could take care of himself, but Hildebert was at 
 Marmoutier across the river ; Falaise was some- 
 where in the excited town ; and although the wild 
 panic by this time had apparently subsided, and 
 although instead of the Jews merely the Old Man 
 of the Mountains was suspected of malice towards 
 the children, still the dame, whose heart beat 
 only for God and her children, was anxious and 
 uneasy. 
 
 Three or four times she had been to Nicholas in 
 the shop, a most unusual proceeding on her part, 
 and each time, proud that she came to him, he had 
 told her with a laughing assurance that the thing 
 was a mere fairy-story, a matter of which no 
 reasonable man could give account some idle 
 story seized upon by the hot-heads of the mob and 
 turned by them into this momentary hubbub. He 
 had pushed her from his shop, laughing at her for 
 a foolish woman. 
 
 A neighbour had come to see her a few minutes 
 ago, a staid, safe woman. ' It is a troubadour's tale 
 from Tours,' this good body had said. ' The wicked 
 fellow told the people, to amuse them, that Aladdin 
 had started to seize the children of Vendome and 
 carry them into the mountains ; one of the ignorant 
 peasants who live in the caves at St. Symphorien,
 
 16 MISSING 
 
 heard a part of this story, thought it was truth, and 
 straightway rushed to the bridge crying, Look to 
 your children. A good family man, yes ; but 
 stupid ! From that spread this foolish fear. And 
 they say a score of Jews have been killed.' 
 
 Still Elisabeth was anxious. 
 
 Perhaps she dismissed from her heart every 
 thought of a massacre, every thought of robbers ; 
 certainly she had no faith in Aladdin. The panic 
 in the city did not trouble her any longer. Peace 
 was restored ; the streets were now quiet. But that 
 sudden and wild terror for the safety of the city's 
 children had set her thinking thinking with all the 
 wonderful solicitude of her mother's heart, which 
 was deep with infinite, unfathomable love. She 
 thought of Falaise, who was beautiful but unstable, 
 who was growing up excitable and capricious, who 
 loved fine clothes, would spend hours before a 
 mirror, had eyes for every man who admired her 
 pretty face, and showed no sign at present of a 
 housewife's virtue. 
 
 She thought of Hildebert, who was so thin, 
 delicate and pale, whose cheeks flamed so suddenly, 
 whose great eyes burned at times like immense 
 lamps. Would he ever grow to manhood ? would 
 he soon decide for the Church or live like a dreamer 
 and a visionary till manhood came with its shocks, 
 brutality, and disenchantments ? Where was he 
 now ? No doubt he had been playing at Crusades
 
 MISSING 17 
 
 with his friends at Marmoutier, playing that rough 
 game of Christians and Saracens with all the passion 
 and realism which were so characteristic of his 
 intense nature. Suppose he should be struck by a 
 stone, or stumble and break a limb ! 
 
 She thought of Gaspard. Surely he had changed 
 of late. His tenderness had gone. He was cold, 
 severe, silent. Why was he so hard and selfish ? 
 Why did he mock at the priests ? Why did he 
 never go to church ? Why did he speak impatiently 
 of things which all the world believed, and laugh at 
 those things in which everyone was interested ? 
 
 These thoughts occupied her heart the while she 
 stirred the pot over the fire mechanically. 
 
 She had brought up her family with one central 
 guidance in her soul. She believed in God. To God 
 she prayed for her children, and whatsoever hap- 
 pened to them she had always said, ' It is the Will 
 of God.' They had adored her, and this charming 
 love had confirmed her faith. She had but to speak 
 and they obeyed. Did she suffer ? they came 
 about her to comfort and console. Ah, the dear 
 confidences at bedtime, after the night's prayers, 
 over each of those three little cots ! Yes ! surely 
 God had answered all her prayers. She looked back 
 over the years ; they had been full of sweetness. .... 
 But to-night she wondered. 
 
 Had she been wise in being so kind ? Was God 
 refusing to do what she herself should have done ? 
 c
 
 18 MISSING 
 
 Perhaps it had been better if Gaspard had been 
 forced to church, forced to follow his father's trade, 
 forced to speak respectfully of priest and monk. 
 Perhaps it had been better if Falaise had been 
 forced to household work, forced to cook and clean, 
 forced to mend and sew, forced to go to market. 
 
 Was it not dangerous to love and indulge and 
 gently guide ? Was it not better to rule, to order, 
 and to force ? 
 
 At this point of her reflections, Falaise came 
 smiling and blushing into the kitchen, a little out of 
 breath and a little guilty, but strangely beautiful, 
 flushed by the evening air. 
 
 ' Where have you been ? ' demanded Elisabeth, 
 stirring the pot and turning round her head in its 
 white cap to survey her daughter. 
 
 ' By the river,' said Falaise, whose voice was like 
 music. 
 
 ' It is late. Come, cut the bread ; your father 
 and brothers will soon be here.' 
 
 Falaise went to the credence, picked up the great 
 knife, and going to the table began to cut rounds of 
 black bread from the huge loaf. She was surprised 
 by her mother's stern voice and hard look. She 
 could not think what had happened. And she was 
 so happy, so excited ! Oh, how she hated cutting 
 the big loaf, which hurt her hands and tired her 
 arms. 
 
 ' What excitement there has been in the city ! '
 
 MISSING 19 
 
 she exclaimed presently, unable to keep silent any 
 longer. 
 
 ' A wonder you were not in it,' replied the mother 
 gruffly. 
 
 'I ? ' 
 
 ' You.' 
 
 'Why?' 
 
 For a moment there was no sound but the scrap- 
 ing of the ladle in the pot. Then Elisabeth said 
 gruffly, ' It is what you like excitement. When 
 shall I see you at work in the house, helping me, and 
 doing your woman's duty in the world ? ' 
 
 Falaise grew serious. ' Oh, mother,' she ex- 
 claimed, ' I am very young to be out of the sunshine 
 all day. It is so dark in here. And outside ' 
 
 Elisabeth nodded her head. ' Ah, outside ! It 
 isn't the sun you go for ! No ; it's the pretty faces, 
 the fine clothes, the painted cheeks, and the eyes of 
 the men who gape at you.' 
 
 Falaise came to the fire ; the steam settled on her 
 face and moistened her eyes. She put an arm 
 round her mother's waist and nestled against her 
 side. ' I will try to help you, my mother ; you are 
 always kind ; do not be cross with me.' 
 
 Elisabeth gave her a quick kiss. ' Here comes 
 your father. Move. Let me get the pot to the table. 
 Tut, how hot it is, this handle ! ' 
 
 Falaise went to her father, her hands extended, 
 her eyes bright.
 
 20 MISSING 
 
 Nicholas had entered but a minute, rubbing his 
 white hands and snuffing the savoury smells, before 
 Gaspard arrived, stern, white, and silent. The dim 
 lamp cast a murky light on the four faces, so different 
 and so interesting each in its own way. Everybody 
 asked for Hildebert as they drew the benches to the 
 table. ' I fear some mischief will happen to him,' 
 said Elisabeth. Falaise was talking to Gaspard who 
 answered her only in monosyllables. Nicholas 
 fished a great piece of meat from the pot, placed it 
 on the round of black bread in front of him, and 
 mumbled a brief grace in Latin. ' Go to the street 
 and see if he is coming,' he said to Falaise. Then he 
 began to eat, briskly. 
 
 Elisabeth filled the single goblet with wine from 
 the cask and brought it to Nicholas. ' He is never 
 so late as this,' she said anxiously, and moved to the 
 lamp which required feeding. 
 
 ' It is all this hubbub,' said Nicholas. ' The 
 boy is sure to be mixed up in such a hurly.' He 
 turned to Gaspard. ' Did you hear anything ? ' he 
 asked. 
 
 ' I saw a Jew killed,' answered Gaspard. 
 
 Nicholas laughed. ' Well, a Jew the less in the 
 world will hurt no one ! ' He drained the goblet and 
 pushed it over to Gaspard. Elisabeth took it and 
 went again to the cask. 
 
 Falaise returned. ' He is not in sight. I went to 
 the corner, and I asked two or three if they had seen
 
 MISSING 21 
 
 him.' She stood at the end of the table, her large 
 eyes shining, her cheeks slightly flushed, her neck 
 as white as wool. Elisabeth, regarding her with 
 frightened eyes, saw how beautiful she was. 
 
 ' Bah ! he will be here directly,' said Nicholas. 
 ' Sit down, wife, and eat. Your fidgets will not 
 bring the lamb back any quicker. Look you, I 
 taste in the pot to-night more maternity than goes 
 with good cooking. This stir in the streets has mis- 
 stirred your smoky pot. You cannot worry and 
 cook at the same time. Pish ! your children are 
 safe. Sit down, I say.' He drank another goblet 
 of wine, and, standing up, drew a piece of fish 
 and the leg of a duck from the dish on the table. 
 ' Drink some wine,' he said ; ' it will put heart 
 into you.' 
 
 Elisabeth took no notice. She stood behind the 
 table for a moment, and then went to Gaspard. 
 ' Finish your supper quickly,' she said in a low 
 voice. ' I can eat nothing till your brother is here.' 
 
 Gaspard replied, ' I will go now,' and rose from 
 the table. She watched his strong figure disappear 
 through the arched doorway into the shadows of 
 the court. 
 
 When he was gone, Nicholas turned to Falaise 
 and asked her what she had seen by the river that 
 afternoon. ' Drink some wine, girl,' he said ; ' and 
 tell me your gossip.' 
 
 The girl's eyes flashed. ' What do you think ?
 
 22 MISSING 
 
 I saw the Count ! He was riding a white horse ; his 
 clothes were of crimson and gold ; his gloves were 
 sewn with pearls ; and in his hand he carried a 
 hawk. As he rode, his harness, which was splendid 
 and fine, made a rich music.' 
 
 ' Oh, tush ! tush ! ' said the mother angrily. 
 There were dark shadows in the hollows of her 
 cheeks and black lines under her eyes. 
 
 ' Go on, my pretty,' laughed Nicholas, who was 
 striving to hide his own anxiety for the safety of 
 Hildebert. ' Did you make a curtsy to the 
 Seigneur, eh ? And did he see my little lily ? Tell 
 us how he looked then ; I love the pictures that you 
 make with our French language ; well ? ' 
 
 Falaise glanced at her mother's white face, and 
 then turned quickly to her father. She had been 
 longing all the while to tell her great story. She had 
 longed to burst into the house with it. Her mother's 
 harsh welcome had stemmed her words, and even 
 now that grim and ghostly figure standing motion- 
 less between the table and the door checked the 
 flow of her words. But she turned her gaze from 
 Elisabeth, tried to forget her, and exclaimed, 
 ' What do you think, father ? The Count saw me ! 
 Yes, and he lifted his hand and made to threaten 
 me with the hawk. Really he did. " By my 
 faith," said he, " here's quarry worth a day's 
 hunting." Catherine heard him, and so did Anne. 
 And then he laughed, and said to a nobleman at his
 
 MISSING 23 
 
 side, "We grow in Touraine the prettiest girls in 
 Christendom." I heard him say it. We all heard it. 
 Oh, but ' 
 
 Elisabeth stamped her foot on the rushes. ' For 
 shame ! ' cried she. Her voice trembled ; her hands 
 were clenched. ' To hear you speak such words, and 
 your brother perhaps dead ! Fie upon you, Falaise. 
 That I should live to hear such giddy words from 
 child of mine ! ' She went to the door, looking back 
 with anger at Falaise. 
 
 Nicholas shook his head, mumbled, and glanced 
 over the edge of the goblet. Falaise sat hot and 
 shamefaced, twisting her hands in her lap, her eyes 
 cast down. For a full five minutes there was silence 
 in the room. 
 
 Gaspard returned. ' There is some excitement in 
 Tours,' he said. ' They say a preacher has come 
 from Vendome. Mayhap Hildebert is there. I will 
 go across and see. By the river and on the bridge 
 there is no sign of him.' 
 
 He spoke quietly, without emotion. His hand- 
 some, masterful face betrayed nothing. He had a 
 message to deliver, and delivered it. That was all. 
 
 Elisabeth caught him by the arm. ' I will come 
 with you. I can wait here no longer. Is there 
 fighting over there ? Have any more been killed in 
 the streets ? ' Her eyes searched his face. 
 
 ' All's quiet,' said Gaspard. 
 
 ' I will come with you. Oh, my heart, if harm
 
 24 MISSING 
 
 should befall him ! And we sitting here ! Does no 
 one care for my boy ? Am I the only one ? Ah, 
 God forbid ! Falaise, put the pot to the fire and 
 cleanse the table. Nicholas, keep watch for our 
 youngest.' 
 
 ' Stop ! ' cried Nicholas, who was going to the 
 cask, goblet in hand. 
 
 She turned at the door. The dusky orange- 
 coloured light of the lamp showed her face rigid in 
 austerity. 
 
 ' What good can you do in the street, wife ? ' 
 demanded Nicholas weakly, frightened by her look. 
 ' Bide here, and keep the young lad's supper hot for 
 him that is mothers' work. And while you, do 
 you see, attend to that, I and Gaspard will go, and 
 not the same road ; he one way, and I one way. 
 That has sense in it. Now, I pray you ' 
 
 ' I cannot rest here,' said Elisabeth. One of her 
 hands was pressed against her heart. ' See how late 
 it is. He has never before kept us like this. And 
 there has been fighting in the streets. Jews have 
 been killed. And besides, something tells me. Yes, 
 my boy needs me. Disaster has come to him. He is 
 calling me.' 
 
 Nicholas turned white and moistened his lips 
 uneasily. The goblet twisted in his hands and the 
 lamp sparkled on its rim. He watched his wife, 
 cunningly. 
 
 ' Jews have been killed ! ' exclaimed Falaise from
 
 MISSING 25 
 
 the table. She had heard nothing. She was 
 frightened. 
 
 ' Aye, blood has been shed, and people have gone 
 mad,' said Elisabeth, frowning at her. 
 
 ' All that,' said Gaspard, ' is long over.' 
 
 ' Our right noble militia will see to that ! ' laughed 
 Nicholas, making a move of affected composure to 
 the cask. 
 
 ' Still, he may have been killed ! ' 
 
 ' Dame ! ' said Nicholas, drawing up. ' You are 
 beside yourself to-night. Look you, I have heard 
 from your lips a thousand times since children came 
 to us, It is the Will of God. Well ! Is there no God 
 all of a sudden ? All of a sudden has He ceased to 
 hear your prayers ? Come, restore yourself. No 
 harm has befallen your son. I am a religious man. 
 God has prospered me. I say, no harm has come to 
 our youngest.' 
 
 ' Nevertheless, I will go and seek for him,' 
 Elisabeth rejoined. ' What ! would you have me 
 
 sit here ? ' She put her hand to Gaspard's arm. 
 
 ' Let us to Tours. Oh, heart of my body, look how 
 
 dark it is ! To think of my little lad ' She 
 
 stopped suddenly on the threshold. ' Listen ! ' she 
 cried ; ' what is that sound ? Oh, dear God ! ' 
 
 At that moment the lamp began to fail. 
 
 A dreadful silence filled the darkening kitchen. 
 Falaise stood white and frightened at the table. 
 Nicholas, with dropped under jaw and staring eyes,
 
 26 MISSING 
 
 remained half-way to the door, like a man trans- 
 fixed. And at the door itself Elisabeth was clutching 
 Gaspard's arm, listening with white face, one finger 
 raised in the air, her body taut with new alarm 
 which strengthened all her fears. 
 
 There was a roar of voices in the street, a sound 
 of men running, and once more the cry resounded on 
 every side 
 
 ' Look to your children ! '
 
 CHAPTER III 
 THE CALL 
 
 NO one in the kitchen seemed able to move. If 
 a stranger had entered the court at that 
 moment and through the arched doorway had 
 suddenly seen those four people standing in the dim 
 interior as if transfixed, the wavering flame of the 
 failing lamp throwing wild and fantastic shadows 
 across their blanched faces and their motionless 
 bodies, well might he have fled in consternation 
 from a scene so ghostly, so haunting, and so silent. 
 For the kitchen was like a tomb, and its inmates 
 like the dead. 
 
 The hubbub in the streets grew louder. Shrill 
 voices of panic-stricken women rose above the 
 deeper and more reverberating clamour of men. 
 The feeling of a whole city in violent motion, the 
 sense of a multitude suddenly aroused and moving 
 furiously, entered the still, silent, and darkening 
 kitchen like the rumble of an army. 
 
 All in a minute this terrible tension was relaxed. 
 It was like the snapping of a stretched cord. 
 
 Somebody outside in the streets had laughed. 
 27
 
 28 THE CALL 
 
 The incongruous sound of this rich laughter 
 entered the darkening kitchen and dispelled panic, 
 just as it seemed instantly to silence the roar in the 
 streets. Gaspard endeavoured to free himself from 
 his mother's clutch. Elisabeth slowly lowered her 
 finger, which had seemed to be listening. Nicholas 
 cleared his throat and took a step to the door. 
 Falaise began once more to collect the trenchers of 
 black bread. ' It is nothing,' said Nicholas, moisten- 
 ing his lips. 
 
 ' Let me go and see,' Gaspard said quietly to 
 his mother. 
 
 ' Listen ! ' she cried suddenly, joy and happiness 
 in her voice, her worn face instantly transfigured. 
 
 The others heard nothing but the laughter, which 
 was now loud and general ; only Elisabeth had heard 
 the sound of Hildebert's voice. They looked at her, 
 wondering. 
 
 Before they could move, the little lad had dashed 
 through the house and now came running towards 
 them, breathless with excitement, his scapular hang- 
 ing behind him, his hose dragging, his arms extended. 
 He seemed to throw himself into his mother's arms. 
 
 ' It is true ! ' he cried eagerly, pressing himself 
 to her bosom, his head lifted, his wonderful great 
 grey eyes with their thick lashes directed to her 
 stooping face. The laughter in the streets continued. 
 Before any of them could speak the little boy went 
 on,Jgasping with his tremendous excitement, the
 
 THE CALL 29 
 
 slim body in its dress of deep blue still quivering 
 with the overwhelming force of his emotion : ' It is 
 all quite true about Stephen of Cloyes. You know 
 what I told you ? It is true ! God has appeared to 
 him. He has seen angels. The sheep in the field 
 have bowed down before him. He touches people 
 and they are cured. And what do you think ? 
 Something we have never heard before ! Oh, 
 mother ! he has been to the King at St. Denys, and 
 now oh, mother, listen ! listen ! he is marching to 
 the Holy Land with the children of France f It is 
 true, true, true ! Isn't it glorious ? God has chosen 
 the children. God has told Stephen that the 
 children of France shall drive the Saracens from 
 Holy Land and take possession of our Saviour's 
 tomb.' 
 
 The laughter in the streets continued. 
 
 ' All the armies of the Christians,' Hildebert cried 
 breathlessly, ' have been vanquished because the 
 men were wicked. God will not give the Holy Land 
 to wicked men. The Saracens have been permitted 
 to kill them and torture them, and drive them back, 
 because they are sinful. But children are pure ! 
 Children are innocent ! Children do not love sin and 
 offend God. And so He has chosen them. He told 
 Stephen He has ordained it. Stephen of Cloyes is a 
 poor boy ; he is a shepherd, like David. He has 
 prayed ; he has longed to see God. And God has 
 appeared to him in the fields ; he has seen^Him on
 
 30 THE CALL 
 
 the hills ; and God has chosen him out of all the 
 people in the world to lead the great army of 
 children into Holy Land. Children, only children ! 
 The King believes in him. He went to St. Denys. 
 He showed a letter. The bishops would not believe 
 at first. Now they all believe. Everybody believes. 
 And the children are pouring out to join this 
 beautiful Stephen. Their fathers and mothers try 
 to stop them ; some of the angry father^ put fetters 
 on the children and chain them up ; but God breaks 
 the chains and loosens the fetters. Over a thousand 
 children have gone from Vendome alone. Nothing 
 can stop them. It is the Will of God ! the Will of 
 God ! And, mother ! ' 
 
 The boy stood tiptoe, stretched his face upward, 
 and pressed his hands tightly round his mother's 
 neck. The laughter in the streets continued. 
 
 ' / must go, too ! ' he broke out, trembling. 
 ' Directly I heard about it, I felt my heart grow hot 
 in my body. Make me a red cross, dear mother, and 
 let me go soon. I long to see Stephen. I want to 
 touch his dress. I want to hear his voice. Oh, think, 
 mother ! with that voice he has spoken to God ! 
 Isn't it wonderful ? isn't it grand ? And they say 
 that our Lord came to him once dressed like a poor 
 man ! He will tell me all about that. I shall walk 
 at his side to Jerusalem, and he will tell me how our 
 Lord looked and what He said to him on the hillside. 
 And I will come back from Holy Land and tell you.
 
 THE CALL 31 
 
 All the wickedness is to cease. Bad men are to be 
 destroyed. No one will be able to live who does not 
 love God. And I shall see the Lake of Galilee. I 
 shall worship on the Mount of Olives. I shall weep 
 in Gethsemane. I shall adore on Calvary. And 
 I shall see the tomb in the garden where He was 
 laid, and where His Mother came and St. Peter ran 
 and looked in, and where the angel was sitting ! ' 
 
 Loudly, brutally, sounded the laughter in the 
 streets. 
 
 ' My child ! ' cried the mother, holding him fast, 
 straining her eyes to see his face in the fading light ; 
 ' you cannot go to Holy Land.' She kissed his brow. 
 ' It is some tale they have told you. It is not true, 
 my angel. Listen, how the people are laughing ! ' 
 
 ' Wicked people are laughing ! ' burst out Hilde- 
 bert with passionate indignation. * Yes, but God 
 will destroy them.' He seemed as if he would free 
 himself from his mother ; but she still held him, 
 bending over him, tenderly. ' They tried to take 
 the Holy Land from the Saracens ; but they 
 couldn't ! Let them laugh ! They call themselves 
 Christians, but they do not love God. Devils laugh 
 like that ! Mother, mother, you must believe ! It 
 is all true. It really is true. And I will go with 
 Stephen to the Holy Land. You cannot stop me, 
 dear mother. Father cannot stop me. No one can 
 stop me. It is the Will of God.' 
 
 The eyes of Falaise were bright and excited. The
 
 32 THE CALL 
 
 enthusiasm, the intense emotion of Hildebert had 
 communicated their fire to her soul. She drew 
 nearer to the doorway with her bright eyes fixed in 
 fascination on her brother's face. 
 
 Nicholas, too, was profoundly moved by the boy's 
 hot and passionate assurance. His face was paler 
 than usual, the blue lips were firmer set ; there was a 
 gleam of fire in his light-coloured eyes. He moved 
 thoughtfully to the dwindling lamp, rescued the 
 wick from extinction, and then approached the 
 doorway, his eyes bent upon Hildebert's excited 
 face. 
 
 ' You cannot go,' said Elisabeth, as Nicholas came 
 to her side. 
 
 ' You are mad to think of it, my son,' added 
 Nicholas hoarsely. He cleared his throat, moistened 
 his lips, and laid a hand on the child's shoulder. 
 ' Come, sit down to your supper, and let us talk this 
 matter over.' 
 
 ' No one believes ! ' cried Hildebert, fiercely and 
 with challenge. The laughter in the streets became 
 an agony to his soul. He looked about him. 
 Gaspard's cold, impassive face seemed to enrage 
 the boy. No one understood him. All were against 
 him. ' You cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven,' 
 he cried, ' unless you become as a little child. It's 
 the Will of God. We have not chosen Him, but He 
 has chosen us. Don't you believe, Falaise ? Oh, 
 mother, surely you believe ! You taught me to
 
 THE CALL 33 
 
 pray. You go to mass. You give to the poor. 
 Falaise, I told you about Stephen of Cloyes, and 
 you said it was beautiful. Now it is more beautiful. 
 Think, he has seen our Lord. Think, God has 
 bidden him lead the children of France to Holy Land. 
 Don't you believe now ? Don't you want to 
 believe ? ' 
 
 ' Little son,' said Nicholas, taking the boy's arm 
 in a firm grasp, ' there are many leagues from here 
 to Holy Land ; you need be in no hurry to start ; 
 and it is necessary for pilgrims to eat. Now, come 
 to the table. We will sit about you while you make 
 a little supper, and you shall answer our questions.' 
 
 As he drew the boy into the kitchen, he made a 
 motion with his head to Falaise, signifying that she 
 should make up the fire and get her brother's 
 supper. 
 
 Hildebert turned his eyes to his mother. ' You 
 will make me a red cross, won't you ? ' he pleaded. 
 
 Elisabeth was weeping at the door.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 A MAN COMES RUNNING 
 
 THE fire was kindled, the pot began to steam, 
 and a show of cheerfulness appeared on the 
 faces of Nicholas and Elisabeth. They got Hilde- 
 bert to the table, called him by endearing names, 
 rallied him for his disordered clothes, bustled 
 Falaise here and there, and eloquently expressed 
 their anxiety to hear the full story of Stephen and 
 this wonderful pilgrimage. 
 
 Hildebert sat on the bench, his shoulders rounded, 
 his head bent, his hands hanging idle between his 
 knees. He looked at no one. He heard nothing that 
 was said. 
 
 There was a pathetic beauty in the little boy with 
 his long dark hair, his pale face, his grey eyes with 
 the dark lashes, his small mouth of which the lips 
 were swollen and parted with emotion. His doublet 
 of deep blue, with its wide and loose collar, its short 
 sleeves, and its low-waisted belt, admirably became 
 his charming face. The rich but solemn colour of 
 this dress added to the tragedy of his appearance, 
 and made him look like a scolded angel. 
 
 34
 
 A MAN COMES RUNNING 35 
 
 He felt that it was useless to speak ; he was 
 conscious of an immense and crushing disappoint- 
 ment ; he had come too suddenly out of rose- 
 coloured clouds and the dazzling ecstasy of trans- 
 figuration into this hard, stupid, and unseeing world. 
 His thoughts were of heaven ; and they had placed 
 him at a table. He longed for God ; and they spoke 
 of supper. Worse, he came to them with blessing, 
 with glory, with light for their darkness, with joy 
 for their sorrow ; and they treated him as one dis- 
 traught, one who must be soothed and indulged, 
 got quietly to bed with sweetmeats and kisses ! 
 
 Gaspard, still standing by the door, a little in 
 shadow, surveyed his brother with contempt. 
 
 ' Quick, Falaise ! ' called Nicholas cheerfully, 
 rubbing his hands. ' Make the pot boil, child ; stir 
 it about ; keep the good things a-moving. My faith, 
 Hildebert, but it smells savoury ! ' 
 
 ' You must tell us all about this Stephen while 
 you eat,' said Elisabeth, placing a trencher of bread 
 before the little boy, and resting one of her hands 
 upon his stooping shoulders. 
 
 ' Let him drink first,' quoth Nicholas. ' Pilgrims 
 are thirsty souls ! ' 
 
 ' I doubt you've drunk nothing, my angel,' said 
 Elisabeth, ' since you left us at noon.' 
 
 She took the goblet to the cask. 
 
 As the wine began to flow, the disillusion and 
 rebellion which were breaking the child's heart rose
 
 36 A MAN COMES RUNNING 
 
 in a great sob to his throat. He suddenly flung his 
 arms on the table, let his head fall there, and burst 
 into tears. 
 
 Elisabeth turned off the tap of the cask, and ran 
 to him. Falaise at the fire began to weep and called 
 to Hildebert, going towards him, that she believed 
 his story, and that she, too, would like to go to Holy 
 Land. Nicholas, puckering his brows and pursing 
 his lips, took a turn here and there, his eyes on the 
 rushes. A moment ago he had felt proud of taking 
 command in a purely household affair, something 
 which had nothing to do with the shop ; he had 
 almost welcomed this unexpected crisis, had secretly 
 rejoiced at his wife's weakness and tears, had 
 flattered himself for a clever and skilful head of a 
 family ; but now 
 
 Walking here and there in the kitchen, he caught 
 sight of Gaspard at the door. A sudden thought 
 struck him. He looked cunningly over his shoulder. 
 Elisabeth was on one side of Hildebert, Falaise on 
 the other ; the boy was completely hidden in their 
 embraces. Softly he approached Gaspard and 
 whispered in his ear, ' Go quickly into the streets, 
 and get the truth of this tale. Not a word ! ' He 
 put his finger to his lips, nodded knowingly, and, 
 once more pleased with his generalship, turned back 
 again to the table. ' Why, what is this ? ' he 
 exclaimed cheerfully ; ' tears ! tears in a pilgrim ! 
 Come, Hildebert my son, you must grow a heart
 
 A MAN COMES RUNNING 37 
 
 worthy of the red cross.' He rubbed his hands and 
 laughed. ' What will you do between this and 
 Jerusalem ? there are many stones on the road, 
 and some broken water, too, if what crusaders tell 
 us is true. Ah, a stormy course, believe me ! You'll 
 need courage. Courage is a fine thing. Hardihood, 
 eh ? Endurance, what ? Oho, lad ! You must show 
 us the warrior before we let you crack Saracen skulls 
 to the glory of God.' 
 
 ' There, there,' whispered Elisabeth soothingly, 
 sitting on the bench and gradually working Hilde- 
 bert first into her arms and then on to her lap. 
 ' Tears do no harm, and it isn't the first time your 
 mother has dried them for you on her bosom, is it, 
 my angel ? ' She began to rock him backwards and 
 forwards, her lips in his hair. ' You've tired your- 
 self at Marmoutier. The noise in these streets has 
 been too much for you. Eat a little supper and I'll 
 put you to bed and sit by your side till sleep comes. 
 (Falaise, bring me the goblet.) A little wine, love, 
 will do you good ; my angel is hot ; he's overdone 
 and worn out. There, there ! snuggle against my 
 heart, and let the tears fall.' She pressed him to 
 her, and crooned to him. 
 
 Gaspard passed through the house and made his 
 way into the streets, which were still unusually full 
 of people, but from which all panic had now com-
 
 38 A MAN COMES RUNNING 
 
 pletely disappeared. He heard men laughing 
 indulgently, and caught the name of Stephen, 
 mockingly, from the lips of women standing at dark 
 entries or leaning from the sills of upper windows. 
 
 The crowds were greatest by the inns. Pilgrims 
 who patronised these establishments, and those who 
 slept in the streets outside, were gathered together 
 in shadowy groups, talking together, or eagerly 
 listening to one who had definite news. A crescent 
 moon shone upon the white walls and pointed 
 gables of the houses. Merchants passed, hand in 
 hand, across these open places, talking softly and 
 laughing quietly. A couple of drunken priests were 
 helping a third, worse drunk than themselves, to keep 
 upon his feet. Evil women stood watching from 
 darkened doorways. Robbers followed swaying and 
 uncertain figures through narrow lanes. Dogs 
 foraged in the litter. From most of the inns came 
 the sound of loud voices quarrelling or singing 
 discordantly. 
 
 Gaspard was about to join a group of pilgrims 
 listening to one who seemed to be speaking quietly 
 and with intelligence, when he felt his doublet 
 lightly touched and heard a voice which quickened 
 all the pulses in his body. 
 
 ' So you have not yet gone to Jerusalem ! ' said 
 this voice, which was wonderfully soft, wonderfully 
 sweet, and, above all things else, charged with the 
 mystery of an original soul.
 
 A MAN COMES RUNNING 39 
 
 He turned quickly, his dark cheeks flushed, his 
 eyes shining. 
 
 ' Isabel ! ' he exclaimed, and laughed with a deep 
 
 joy- 
 
 The girl was tall and thin, with pale, colourless 
 hair like faded straw, narrow eyes which were 
 darkened by shadows, a fine nose most delicately 
 chiselled at the nostrils, and lips that were long, 
 full, and, in repose, full of power and determination. 
 
 She was almost as tall as Gaspard, and carried 
 herself loosely, with an easy grace and the appear- 
 ance of carelessness. 
 
 ' So you have not started yet ? ' 
 
 ' If I wanted to,' he answered, ' I could not 
 leave you.' 
 
 ' But girls are going, they say, as well as boys.' 
 
 ' You mean you would come with me ? ' 
 
 ' But you are not going ! ' 
 
 ' What is the truth of this tale ? ' he asked her. 
 ' Hildebert has come home with a fine story. He 
 wants a red cross and would be off at once to join 
 someone he calls Stephen of Cloyes.' 
 
 She laughed. ' Some have gone already, not 
 waiting for the red cross. They say a hundred and 
 more children are missing.' 
 
 ' But is it true that this Stephen is reaUy marching 
 to Holy Land ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, that is how you choose to believe ! ' 
 
 ' It is late for you to be out,' he said, regarding
 
 40 A MAN COMES RUNNING 
 
 her tenderly. The moon made little stars in her 
 dark eyes and turned her long neck to a pillar of 
 gold. 
 
 ' I am waiting for my father.' 
 
 4 Ah ! ' 
 
 ' He loses his purse if one of us is not by to guide 
 him home.' She laughed bitterly. 
 
 Gaspard's lips hardened. ' What with the mad- 
 ness of religion,' he said, ' and the madness of wine, 
 this town is more a place of devils than men.' 
 
 ' They are no better at Tours ; no better at 
 St. Cyr ; no better anywhere in France. Life is so. 
 What would you ? ' 
 
 * What would I ! ' he exclaimed. ' I have oft told 
 you. I would have for a ruler of men neither 
 soldier nor priest, neither noble nor commercial 
 prud'homme ; no ! I would have those who 
 understand the body of men made masters of life.' 
 
 ' Ambitious youth ! ' she laughed. ' You would 
 set a barber on the throne ai*l beat all our swords 
 into razors ! ' 
 
 They moved slowly across the square, and as 
 they went he told her once again his dream for the 
 world. Instead of money emptied at the feet of 
 priests to increase their arrogance, or bestowed upon 
 soldiers to lay waste cities and vineyards, he would 
 spend all on human knowledge in the cause of 
 human welfare. He would have the streets of cities 
 cleansed, the world searched for healing herbs,
 
 A MAN COMES RUNNING 41 
 
 scholars endowed to discover and invent, life made 
 intelligent, mankind ennobled, the secrets of nature 
 laid bare. 
 
 It was his dream, and only with Isabel did his 
 soul share it. 
 
 One other of his dreams he shared with her, the 
 one nearest to his heart as the other was closest 
 to his brain. He dreamed to be famous and great, a 
 man known throughout France for his genius in the 
 healing art, a friend of kings and princes, a master 
 of knowledge. Then, in a fair house with a sweet 
 green garden of shady trees and fragrant herbs, of 
 burning flowers and cooling fountains, he would 
 dwell with Isabel for his wife, and they would be 
 happy the livelong day, and he would let her tease 
 him as she would, loving to be teased by her, and he 
 would tell her in a thousand ways how exquisite she 
 was to his soul, how ravishing to his brain, how 
 dear, how delicious, how precious to his heart. 
 
 As he told her again of this dream, she lifted her 
 head and looked upwards, smiling at the crescent 
 moon. ' You are like Hildebert,' she said softly ; 
 ' you dream ! ' 
 
 ' Nay,' he answered scornfully ; ' we are poles 
 asunder. That poor child dreams of heaven ; I of 
 truth. He runs after the shadows of another world ; 
 I pursue the knowledge of this.' 
 
 ' Nevertheless,' she answered, ' what is real is 
 equally different from what you both dream.'
 
 42 A MAN COMES RUNNING 
 
 ' Isabel ! ' he exclaimed, coming to a stop and 
 turning round to confront her, ' what I dream is 
 the hidden truth of that which really exists. Trust 
 me, and you shall see. Believe me, even as I adore 
 you. Have faith in me. I shall discover things. I 
 shall be famous. We shah 1 be rich and happy, you 
 and I.' 
 
 She rested her strange eyes upon him. ' How 
 shall these things be ? ' she said half mockingly, 
 half wistfully. 
 
 At that moment a man came running into the 
 square, and, as if in answer to the question of Isabel, 
 called Gaspard's name in a loud voice. 
 
 The lovers started and turned about. 
 
 ' I am here,' cried Gaspard. 
 
 The man came to him. * Quick with me, friend,' 
 said he ; ' the Count sends for you. If your wits 
 are as good as some say, fortune awaits you.' He 
 pulled at Gaspard's arm. ' I've a horse ready for 
 you at the Sign of the Green Cross. Hasten, for the 
 Count raves.' 
 
 ' The Count is ill ? ' asked Gaspard, going forward. 
 His voice trembled a little with excitement. Isabel, 
 to whom he had said no word of farewell, watched 
 him go. 
 
 His strong head, with its short-cropped hair, rose 
 from heavy shoulders on a neck which had the force 
 and steadfastness of a column. At the waist and hips 
 he sloped away like a greyhound. The legs were
 
 A MAN COMES RUNNING 43 
 
 straight and handsomely shaped. There was neither 
 stiffness nor laxity in his carriage, but rather an 
 immense energy held firmly in the leash of a watchful 
 will, ready to rouse up and exert itself in a moment. 
 He walked like a man sure of himself and ever on the 
 alert for action ; not as one in haste or excited by a 
 purpose. 
 
 He disappeared round the jutting corner of a 
 dark house, but suddenly came back out of those 
 dark shadows and stood in the moonlight. 
 
 ' Till to-morrow ! ' he called to Isabel, and waved 
 his hand. 
 
 She saw that his eyes were bright, and smiled to 
 him with a little nod of her head. ' Good fortune ! ' 
 she called softly. Again he waved his hand, and then, 
 turning about, plunged into the shadows of the 
 darkened street. 
 
 Isabel stood hi the moonlight, waiting for her 
 father to quit the tavern. 
 
 Gaspard tcld the Count's messenger to await him 
 at the Green Cross, and ran swiftly forward to his 
 father's house. He found the family watching for 
 him. The messenger had called there, and had told 
 them of the Count's desire to have Gaspard's 
 attendance on his son, mortally wounded by a 
 rolling horse. Nicholas was pleased and greeted 
 Gaspard warmly. ' Hurry, my son,' said he ; ' for 
 this is a matter carrying great consequence.' 
 Hildebert was abed and asleep, his pale face
 
 44 A MAN COMES RUNNING 
 
 flushed, his long eyelashes wet with tears, his lips 
 parted. 
 
 Gaspard went lightly up the stairs and passed 
 into his room, striking a light. The room seemed to 
 him smaller than usual. When he had kindled a flame, 
 he went to a chest and took from it a bag which con- 
 tained surgical instruments given to him by an 
 Italian student. Then he went to a cupboard and 
 selected certain bottles which he wrapped carefully 
 and disposed about his person. 
 
 In this little room were several old books, three 
 rough drawings of the human skeleton, a yellowing 
 chart of the blood vessels, cases containing the bones 
 of animals and birds, bottles filled with various 
 mixtures, bunches of dry herbs, trays of moths, 
 butterflies, and beetles. Here the boy had worked, 
 and here he had dreamed. It was at once the cell 
 of a scholar, the playroom of a boy, and the altar 
 of a genius. To-night it seemed to him strangely 
 small, seemed as if it belonged to a past from which 
 he had parted. 
 
 As he turned to go, Falaise glided into the room, 
 glowing and self-conscious. She congratulated 
 Gaspard on his good fortune, and then in the same 
 breath said swiftly, nervously, laughing over her 
 words as if they were unserious. ' Tell the Count, 
 Gaspard, that it was your sister he threatened with 
 his hawk this afternoon. ' Twill amuse him, 
 perhaps.'
 
 A MAN COMES RUNNING 45 
 
 Gaspard regarded her. In his soul he compared 
 her with Isabel. 
 
 There was such judgment in his eyes that Falaise 
 grew pale ; but at the next moment was bold and 
 mocking. She laughed, looked him in the face, and 
 said scornfully, ' How many jokes do you see in a 
 year ? ' 
 
 ' I thought,' said Gaspard, putting out the light, 
 ' that you were going with Hildebert to Holy Land.' 
 
 He passed from the house, came to the Green 
 Cross, and mounted the horse that was standing 
 ready for him at the door. The Count's messenger 
 bade him sit firmly and keep a sharp eye on the 
 horse's head. 
 
 They pushed their way through a dark street, and 
 coming to the road beside the Loire gave the rein to 
 their horses. The moonlight shone upon the broken 
 cart-track, upon the broad river, upon the tall trees 
 bordering its gentle banks, and filled the wooded 
 island floating in the centre of the stream with a 
 mist of tremulous silver.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 GASPARD'S RETURN 
 
 rflHEY rode in silence. Gaspard was busy with 
 -*- the work in front of him ; he knew what there 
 was to know ; questions, he realised, would produce 
 nothing but gossip, for which he had no mind, which 
 would interrupt his thoughts. 
 
 It appeared that the Count had already sent for 
 his master the physician and for Peter the Barber, 
 and that these two men, after causing the injured 
 boy an infinite agony and being passionately cursed 
 and threatened by the now furious Count, had con- 
 jointly suggested Gaspard's appearance on the 
 scene perhaps as a scapegoat. 
 
 Gaspard reckoned all the difficulties, reflected 
 on a certain drug in his doublet, and went over in 
 his mind all he knew about the bones in the human 
 body. He was conducting a hundred operations as 
 he rode along the soft road beside the moon- 
 silvered Loire. 
 
 The messenger presently called to Gaspard to 
 follow him, and turning from the river crossed a few 
 fields, and came to the Cher. He led the way into 
 
 46
 
 GASPARD'S RETURN 47 
 
 the water, telling Gaspard the ford was a good one. 
 On the other side of the river he put spurs to his 
 horse, and they galloped through a glade in the 
 forest, till the park was reached in which the Count 
 was resting at a famous castle. 
 
 This lovely undulating park, where great sheets 
 of water curved into the gloom of their own islands, 
 was flooded with moonlight and dusky with filmy 
 shadows of tall, solitary trees that were motionless 
 under the grinding starshine. It gave Gaspard the 
 feeling of vast space and an almost intolerable 
 power. 
 
 If he should fail ! 
 
 The castle came into view, far-spreading, solid 
 as mountain and yet so radiant in the whiteness 
 of its stone that it seemed the creation of a dream. 
 Philippe Auguste had lodged in this lovely place, 
 Henry II of England had signed within its mighty 
 walls a treaty of peace. Gaspard gazed up at its broad 
 and balustraded terraces, its many windows, its 
 battlemented towers, and felt himself grow suddenly 
 
 small and impotent. If he should fail ! Nay, 
 
 was it possible that he could succeed ? 
 
 He was conducted through a vaulted hall, 
 crowded with people, to the kitchen, where the 
 Count was at supper not having eaten a morsel 
 since the accident to his son. Kings in those days 
 would take their meals by the fire at which they 
 were prepared, and the Count had a love for the
 
 48 GASPARE'S RETURN 
 
 smells of cooking flesh and the warmth and traffic 
 of the fire. Save on occasions of state he dined 
 always in the kitchen, even in the castles of his 
 friends, eating at a bare table with hands that he 
 seldom washed. 
 
 At sight of Gaspard he started up, pulling a 
 morsel of meat from his mouth. ' Why, 'tis a boy ! ' 
 he exclaimed, and stood for a moment, gaping. 
 Then he added, quickly, the fire flinging a red light 
 on his perspiring face, ' Lad, your master is a fool, 
 and your friend the barber is a coward. By St. 
 Damien and St. Come, they deserve a blooding 
 themselves ! I packed them off lest I should break 
 their necks for them. Do you better than they, and 
 I will reward you well. You are but a boy ; but the 
 world is now at your feet. Men say you have a 
 talent for these things. Now is a time to show it. 
 Follow ! ' 
 
 He led the way to a stair, and along a corridor 
 strewed with rushes to a large tapestried chamber 
 where the injured youth lay gasping and groaning 
 on a mattress, his mother bathing his forehead, a 
 sister moistening his lips, a crowd of others standing 
 by in loud conference. 
 
 Gaspard asked for warm water in an ewer, for 
 grease, and a towel. Then he said to the Count, 
 ' Seigneur, let all these people go from the room.' 
 
 The Count was struck by his manner. 
 
 When the room was empty, Gaspard took the
 
 GASPARD'S RETURN 49 
 
 bottles from his doublet, unwrapped them from 
 their coverings, carefully examined them by the 
 lamp, and then selecting one, poured the contents 
 into a phial and went to the groaning youth on the 
 mattress. The Count, watching him narrowly, like 
 a man fascinated, noticed that he turned pale. 
 
 ' What have you there ? ' he demanded, catching 
 Gaspard's arm. 
 
 ' A drug, Seigneur.' 
 
 ' How works it ? ' 
 
 ' That you shall see.' 
 
 He looked the Count in the eyes, went forward, 
 and kneeled at the mattress. Kneeling down at the 
 sick lad's side, ' Drink, sir,' he said quietly ; ' it 
 will give you ease from your pain.' 
 
 The youth drank, spilling a little of the drug, and 
 choking. 
 
 ' Tell me where your hurt is greatest,' Gaspard 
 asked, and gently placed his hands here and there. 
 
 The Count watched him with admiration. 
 
 Suddenly the wounded man groaned deeply. 
 
 ' Have no fear,' said Gaspard ; ' I shall not cause 
 you pain.' 
 
 ' That's good ! ' cried the Count warmly ; * no 
 pain, that's good ; and you speak with assurance.' 
 
 The youth became suddenly very pale, and the 
 jaw locked. 
 
 ' Look ! ' whispered the Count, catching Gaspard's 
 arm.
 
 50 GASPARD'S RETURN 
 
 ' It is nothing, Seigneur.' 
 
 ' He dies ! he dies ! ' cried the Count, pushing 
 Gaspard aside, and bending over his boy who was 
 now livid as death. He was so full of horror that he 
 did not observe Gaspard's pallor, nor notice how his 
 voice shook. 
 
 Gaspard himself, for a moment, was afraid. His 
 heart beat fast. He could feel his throat drying like 
 dust. ' Seigneur,' he said at last, speaking firmly, 
 ' if ill befalls him, yours will be the fault. I pray 
 you, lay not a hand upon him.' 
 
 The Count lifted himself up. 
 
 Gaspard went to the ewer, cleansed his hands 
 with the grease and water, and rubbed them for a 
 long time with a towel, watching the boy on the 
 floor with a steady scrutiny. This calm action 
 seemed to reassure the Count. 
 
 ' Lad,' said he grimly, ' I know not what you are 
 about, but if you work by poison, and if you seek to 
 medicine pain by death, I shall pay your reckoning 
 not with gold but with steel. Why is my son like 
 this ? Hearken, you are not here to cleanse your 
 hands, but to heal my son of his hurt. Why looks 
 he glassy, like death ? Why breathes he like a man 
 strangling ? The physician talked Latin and con- 
 sulted the stars ; the barber laid not a hand to the 
 boy without making him scream ; but they left the 
 colour in his cheeks and the soul in his eyes.' 
 
 ' Seigneur, your son will presently awake healed
 
 GASPARD'S RETURN 51 
 
 of his injury,' said Gaspard. He took off his 
 doublet, rolled up his sleeves, and knelt down at the 
 mattress. ' Touch me not with a finger, hinder me 
 not with a word,' he said to the Count, not looking 
 up, and straightway set about his work. . . . 
 
 It was dawn when he left the castle, and the sun 
 seemed to rise to celebrate his glory. ' As my soul 
 lives,' the Count had exclaimed a dozen times at 
 least, ' the King shall hear of this ; aye, all the 
 world shall know it ! ' Gaspard had heard him tell 
 the ladies and the gentlemen of the castle how the 
 thing had been done. ' He put the boy into a 
 drowse that was like death ; he pierced him with a 
 lean razor, took from him splintered bones as fine as 
 hair, sewed him up like a bag, and then he grasped 
 the bones in his hands, so, and forced them into 
 place with a noise that you could hear.' At the door 
 he had given Gaspard a purse of gold, had told him 
 he would send presents after him, and had said, 
 ' Henceforth, boy, you shall be man of mine. You 
 shall lodge with me, eat with me, and have what you 
 ask. Sell yourself to no one ; nay, not to the King. 
 Call yourself evermore the Count's Surgeon.' 
 
 Happy was the heart of Gaspard as he rode 
 through the park, and followed the river with its 
 tapering poplars and its silver willows to the roofs 
 and towers of Chateauneuf. The sun shone in his 
 eye, and warmed his flesh. He was conscious of
 
 52 GASPARD'S RETURN 
 
 success ; he was sure of fortune and of fame. But 
 most strong of all his emotions at that time was a 
 liberating sense of relief. He had made a dangerous 
 experiment ; his courage was justified. 
 
 From an old woman bent double with rheumatism, 
 who lived in one of the caves at Marmoutier, and 
 who was regarded by all the neighbouring world as 
 a witch in league with the devil this poor old soul 
 two years afterwards on the Place Foire le Roi at 
 Tours was flung into boiling water and afterwards 
 hanged, drawn, and quartered Gaspard had 
 learned of a drug which caused so deep a sleep and 
 produced such a deadness of soul, that, during the 
 trance it thus induced, the body could endure the 
 frightfullest pain of an hour's length without know- 
 ledge. 
 
 In secret he had tried this drug on animals, going 
 into the woods for that purpose, afraid lest the 
 clergy should hear of him and the town be raised to 
 murder him. The Church condemned shedding of 
 blood. It was almost impossible to get hold of a 
 human skeleton. The same powers that allowed a 
 blasphemer or a coiner of false money to be flayed 
 alive or burned at the stake would not allow a 
 surgeon to dissect the body of the greatest criminal 
 that had been put to death. 
 
 Gaspard, with the courage of genius, had tried 
 this drug on the Count's son. It had succeeded. 
 His surgery, learned from the Italian student more
 
 GASPARE'S RETURN 53 
 
 than from Peter the Barber Italy was ahead of all 
 other countries in this respect had succeeded as 
 brilliantly. Yes ! but it had all hung upon a 
 hair. 
 
 As he rode through the morning air, his thoughts 
 flew to Isabel. He must go to her and tell the great 
 news. His dream had come true ! They would soon 
 be married. She should wear fine linen like a 
 princess and live in one of the parks owned by the 
 Count. 
 
 Then he considered with himself whether he 
 should go first to his mother or to Isabel. He 
 imagined how they would be waiting for him 
 anxiously at home, his father at the shop door, his 
 mother at one of the windows above. But Isabel 
 would be waiting, too. 
 
 He felt like a boy suddenly set free from school 
 and made master of his own life. The day was his. 
 No longer need he work for the physician. Hence- 
 forth he was to call himself the Count's Surgeon. 
 
 It was a noble horse, and finely caparisoned, that 
 he rode beside the Loire. He said to himself, ' I 
 will not go at once to the inn. I will give Isabel a 
 sight of me on this great horse, and my mother, 
 too ! ' 
 
 The roofs and towers and beautiful white walls of 
 Chateauneuf shone warm in the morning light. 
 
 As he entered the town many stared at him, and 
 some questioned. He rode stiffly, with his head
 
 54 GASPARD'S RETURN 
 
 high, self-conscious and proud. But inwardly his 
 heart was like a child's, trembling with excitement. 
 
 ' He would go first to Isabel,' he said, and turned 
 the horse up a narrow lane. 
 
 She was within doors, but came to him in a mo- 
 ment. ' I succeeded,' he said, endeavouring to 
 speak in a natural voice. 
 
 ' You were more fortunate than I,' she answered, 
 looking at him with some uncertainty. 
 
 ' What do you mean ? ' 
 
 ' My father lost his purse ! ' 
 
 ' That need not trouble you. I have a bigger, 
 filled, too, with the Count's gold money.' 
 
 ' So you are famous, then ? ' 
 
 ' Our marriage shall come swiftly.' 
 
 ' You are too fine for me on that big horse.' 
 
 ' You shall ride a bigger and a better.' 
 
 ' Have you been home yet ? ' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 She studied him. ' I am glad you have succeeded,' 
 she said quietly. ' I was wrong, but I wanted you 
 to be right. Come this evening, and we will walk 
 by the river.' 
 
 He bent from the saddle. ' Will you have this 
 purse ? ' he whispered. ' It is of no use to me.' 
 
 She shook her head and drew back from him. 
 ' I love you for the thought,' she said softly ; ' but 
 I will touch no gold of yours till there's somewhat 
 on my finger.'
 
 GASPARE'S RETURN 55 
 
 ' Heavens, how I love you ! ' he exclaimed. 
 
 ' It's a mad world ! ' she laughed. ' Go home, 
 Master Surgeon, for I think they will be glad to see 
 you.' 
 
 His eyes followed her into the shadows of the 
 house, where her father, a painter of pictures, with 
 certain skill in miniatures, was sleeping off the effects 
 of his drunkenness, and where a woman was weeping, 
 and the children were hungry. 
 
 Gaspard turned his horse's head and rode back* 
 his heart emptied of pride to make room for the 
 love that consumed him. 
 
 No one was waiting for him at his home ; no one 
 watched from the windows. 
 
 He drew rein, stooped low, and looked into the 
 shop with its groined vaulting and its black shadows. 
 His father was not there. 
 
 He listened for voices above. Not a sound came 
 to him. Disappointment and annoyance darkened 
 his countenance. ' If it had been Hildebert ! ' he 
 reflected bitterly. 
 
 He dismounted, fastened the reins to a staple in 
 the wall, and went round to the court at the back. 
 
 No one was in the kitchen. 
 
 ' A strange welcome ! ' he said, and went up the 
 stairs, troubled and oppressed. 
 
 He found nobody. 
 
 He went to his room to get rid of his instruments 
 and bottles, before making enquiries of the neigh-
 
 56 GASPARD'S RETURN 
 
 hours. As he entered the room, consecrated by so 
 many hours of study and hard toil, and now done 
 with for ever, a piece of parchment on the table 
 caught his eye. He strode across the room and 
 picked it up hastily. ' What in Heaven's name is 
 this ? ' he exclaimed, reading angrily. On this 
 parchment was written in the beautiful hand of 
 Hildebert 
 
 ' Falaise says you do not understand her. She 
 would have you know that she has gone with me 
 to Holy Land.' 
 
 Under this writing was a little red cross.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 A PRIEST EXPLAINS 
 
 AS Gaspard was descending the outside stairs, 
 holding the piece of parchment in his hand 
 and wondering what had happened, his mother 
 came noiselessly round the corner of the house and 
 passed without seeing him into the kitchen. 
 
 She was dressed in black from head to foot, save 
 for the white linen that framed her face. In her 
 hands she held a piece of parchment which had been 
 twisted and twisted again in her fingers. There was 
 such anguish in her drawn face, such tragedy in her 
 bent head, that Gaspard, brought to a sudden stand 
 on the stairs, felt at his heart, as he watched her 
 cross the silent court, so great a spasm of pain that 
 it almost brought tears to his eyes. 
 
 Quickly recovering himself, he descended the 
 stairs, and entered the kitchen. 
 
 Elisabeth was kneeling by the table, her arms 
 flung out before her, her face laid sideways on the 
 dark wood. She was weeping and speaking. Tears 
 came through the closed lids of her eyes, and words 
 
 57
 
 58 A PRIEST EXPLAINS 
 
 that were like those tears came through her swollen 
 lips. 
 
 ' O God, sweet God, dear God in heaven ! ' she 
 was saying ; and these words were repeated again 
 and again. 
 
 Not to startle her, Gaspard spoke softly from the 
 doorway. ' Mother, tell me what harm has befallen 
 you.' 
 
 She did not raise her head ; she did not even 
 open her eyes. ' All's lost, dear son,' she made 
 answer ; ' all's lost to us. O God, hear my prayer, 
 let my cry come unto Thee ! ' 
 
 Gaspard advanced into the room. ' I am but 
 now home,' he said ; ' I know not what has hap- 
 pened.' 
 
 ' Only God can help us ! ' cried the mother. 
 ' Pray to Him, my son ; call upon His name. We 
 are lost without Him. Our house desolate, my 
 grey hairs in sorrow to the grave ! ' 
 
 ' You speak, dear mother, of Hildebert and 
 Falaise ? ' 
 
 ' They have gone from us ; in the night they have 
 gone from us ! Read what is written. My little 
 son's farewell to the mother who would die for him ! 
 They have bewitched him. He has listened to a 
 tale. O God, was there no angel in all your 
 glorious heaven to guard my little son ? And now 
 wicked men have killed him, or he is destroyed by 
 wild beasts, or he is wandering lost in the forest,
 
 A PRIEST EXPLAINS 59 
 
 calling on my name ! ' She burst anew into an 
 agony of tears and called to God for His mercy and 
 His aid. 
 
 She had pushed towards Gaspard the piece of 
 twisted parchment, and he took it from the table 
 and opened it. The first thing he saw was a little 
 red cross beneath the writing. 
 
 This is what he read 
 
 ' Sweet mother, I love thee more than tongue can 
 tell, much more than pen can write. But it is God's 
 Will I be parted from thee, I and Falaise. He has 
 called us in the night. We both have heard His 
 voice. We go to Holy Land. Pray for us, sweet 
 mother, and watch for our return. We shall surely 
 come back to thee singing the Lord's song and bring- 
 ing flowers from Bethlehem. I love thee, mother, 
 next to God I love thee more than all. Thy little 
 son and His crusader, Hildebert.' 
 
 Gaspard folded the paper. ' If they went in the 
 night, and afoot, they cannot now be far,' he said, 
 thoughtfully. ' I have a horse outside ; it is a little 
 spent, but I will ride after them. Certain it is that 
 they have listened to a foolish story. There is no 
 Holy Land for them ! I do not see Falaise fighting 
 the Saracens ! Look for their return right soon, 
 mother footsore and very hungry ! They will 
 walk themselves out of this dream.' 
 
 As he ceased speaking there came a sound of 
 footsteps in the court and the light in the kitchen
 
 60 A PRIEST EXPLAINS 
 
 was suddenly darkened by the figure of a man in 
 the doorway. 
 
 Gaspard faced round. It was a priest, one of the 
 Canons of St. Martin's. 
 
 ' Dame ! ' said this venerable man, entering the 
 room, ' I have heard of your trouble and have come 
 to comfort you, perhaps to show you God's Will.' 
 His voice was kindly and gentle. Only for a moment 
 did his sad eyes rest on Gaspard's sullen face. He 
 looked towards Elisabeth, who had lifted her tear- 
 drenched eyes to him, and went quickly towards 
 her, making a tender sound with his lips, stooping 
 towards her, laying hands of exceeding gentleness 
 upon her shoulders. 
 
 ' Oh, Father,' she cried to him, ' there is no com- 
 fort for me, save the return of my little ones.' 
 
 ' You are in the first agony of grief,' he replied 
 tenderly. ' Our Saviour suffered even as you suffer. 
 Weep, my child, for God will comfort you. But 
 have faith.' 
 
 ' They have taken my children ! ' 
 
 ' Nay ; no one has taken them.' 
 
 ' They have gone from me, my little son is gone 
 from me ! ' 
 
 ' How know you, my child, that God has not 
 called him ? ' 
 
 Gaspard frowned. 
 
 ' How should that be ? Would the good God 
 call my little son into the forest to be killed by wild 
 beasts ? '
 
 A PRIEST EXPLAINS 61 
 
 ' Nay, but to the Holy City to recover His Glory 
 from the infidel ! ' 
 
 Gaspard uttered an exclamation. 
 
 ' Is it not a dream, a fairy story ? ' cried Elisabeth, 
 eyes wide, her whole body suddenly strong with 
 energy. 
 
 ' How can children,' asked Gaspard scornfully, 
 ' walk to the Holy Land ? ' 
 
 ' How did our Blessed Lord rise from the dead ? ' 
 asked the priest quietly. 
 
 ' It is true, then ? ' cried Elizabeth, white as 
 death. 
 
 ' Yes ; it is true. A miracle has happened. Give 
 glory to God, O my sister, that son of yours has 
 been called by His mercy to this mighty work.' 
 
 ' But, Father,' cried the pale woman, ' how shall 
 my little son go up against the Saracen ? ' 
 
 ' How shall a troop of children cross the sea ? ' 
 demanded Gaspard. 
 
 ' Is it for us to ask questions of God ? ' said the 
 priest quietly. ' Listen, and I will tell you how 
 this thing of wondrous grace has come to pass, a 
 thing so sweet and exquisite that only God could 
 have conceived it.' 
 
 And sitting there on the bench, Elisabeth kneel- 
 ing beside him, Gaspard scornful with crossed arms 
 near the door, the old man told his story. 
 
 He said that whenever in times past the world 
 was like to perish from excess of iniquity, as at the
 
 62 A PRIEST EXPLAINS 
 
 time of our Lord's coming, God wrought a mighty 
 work, revealed Himself in some strange and potent 
 way, so that mankind was rescued from destruction. 
 Thus had it happened many times in past ages, and 
 so was it now. How evil were the days ! How dead 
 were the souls of men ! They built great churches, 
 but those who ministered there were reprobate. 
 They went to the Crusades, but drunken and sinful, 
 like an army of thieves. Men were careless of 
 religion, he continued. It was only women who 
 came to church, and they, for the most part painted 
 and bejewelled, to confess abominable sins. Money 
 was the god of the world. To eat, drink, to live in 
 fine houses and lay by much wealth this was the 
 way in which men lived. Never, save at the time 
 of our Lord's coming, had mankind been heartier 
 given to iniquity, more perilously near the brink of 
 universal annihilation. 
 
 But now, behold how fair and beautiful a thing 
 had come to pass. To save the world God had called 
 a child ! There was no man living, neither arch- 
 bishop in his palace nor monk in his grotto, worthy 
 of this great work. It needed a child. Perfect 
 innocence, unsullied purity, implicit faith ! A little 
 child should lead them. A young lad, watching his 
 father's flocks on the hills of Cloyes, had been called by 
 God to save the world. And now, thousands of child- 
 ren in France some said in Germany as well felt 
 themselves irresistibly impelled to follow Stephen of
 
 A PRIEST EXPLAINS 63 
 
 Cloyes. They were going out from their homes in 
 a great army ; a mighty host of blameless little 
 ones were marching through the land, their faces 
 set towards the Holy Places of Jerusalem. 
 
 ' And much more,' concluded the old man, whose 
 pale face was tinted with pink by his enthusiasm, 
 and whose fading eyes shone with glints and gleam- 
 ings of strange fire, ' much more shall be accom- 
 plished by these sacred babes even than the taking 
 of the Holy Land. For they shall convert the whole 
 world. Yes ! God is about a great and glorious 
 work. These little ones will do a miracle. All 
 Christendom, seeing their work, shall bow itself at 
 the Manger of Bethlehem ; all Christendom shall 
 rise up from wickedness and evil ; all Christendom 
 shall turn itself again to God ; and the heathen 
 shall be given to us for our inheritance.' 
 
 He laid his hands, which trembled slightly, upon 
 the woman's shoulders, and bending forward, peered 
 into her eyes, closely and searchingly. 
 
 ' Would you have any of your children at home,' 
 he asked slowly, lovingly, ' when God is calling all 
 those that are innocent, all those that are pure, all 
 those that love Him, to do His work in Holy Land, 
 to save the whole world, and to hasten the Kingdom 
 of His Son His only Son, our Lord ? ' 
 
 The mother answered : ' Great, I fear, is my sin, 
 Father ; for I had rather aU the world were lost 
 than*that my little son was gone from me. See you,
 
 64 A PRIEST EXPLAINS 
 
 Father, he is the little one who came last, he is 
 sickly and dreamful, he has no strength in his limbs 
 for hard tasks, and no cunning in his brain to out- 
 wit wicked and evil men.' 
 
 ' It is such children as God calls, daughter ! It 
 is just such holy little ones ! ' 
 
 ' Nevertheless, I would have him home with me, 
 safe in my keeping.' 
 
 * Is not God's keeping safer than thine ? ' 
 
 ' I cannot answer that, but I know I would have 
 him home.' 
 
 The priest lifted his arm, raised his head, and 
 exclaimed, pointing a finger to the roof, ' Think, 
 in the world to come, in the life everlasting, think 
 if you should see, close to the Throne of God, the 
 host of little ones who saved the world, and should 
 hear an angel weeping at your side, saying, "Mother, 
 but for thee I should have been one of those happy 
 saints of God ! " 
 
 Elisabeth, kneeling, fixed her eyes on the priest's 
 face. 
 
 ' I see them there ! ' he cried ecstatically ; ' the 
 blameless little ones of God, the purest saints, the 
 nearest angels to the throne of glory a host, a 
 shining host ! Oh, to be one of those ! My Saviour, 
 my Saviour, make me as a little child, that I, even 
 I- 
 
 She lifted herself upon one knee, caught his arm, 
 drew the withered hand to her lips, and cried passion-
 
 A PRIEST EXPLAINS 65 
 
 ately, ' He shall be there, Father, my little one shall 
 be among that glorious host. It is the Will of God, 
 the Will of God ! and I shall see him there, and 
 hear him sing, and sometimes he will look upon me 
 and smile with his eyes that have such dark lashes ! ' 
 
 Suddenly she ceased, and burst into tears. 
 
 The priest stooped to comfort her. 
 
 'Nay, Father,' she cried, 'I have bowed to 
 Heaven's will. I am content that he should be 
 gone from me. I do not wish him home. But he 
 asked me to make him his red cross ! Ah me ! 
 would I had done my angel's last request. For 
 now in heaven he will wear a little red cross on his 
 shining robe, a cross that his mother's fingers did 
 not stitch, that her tears did not bless. And I shall 
 see it, and remember, and it will make me sad.'
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 FAREWELL 
 
 fTlHAT night Gaspard and Isabel stood alone 
 J- together under the dark trees by the cold- 
 flowing river. Though they were quite alone there, 
 they spoke, after the manner of lovers, in low voices, 
 the words almost obscure. Gaspard was sad and 
 heavy. He was bidding Isabel farewell. 
 
 One arm was about her waist, holding her to him ; 
 the hand of the other arm lay against her neck, 
 pressing her face to his. His lips, close to her ear, 
 whispered of all the pain that was hurting his strong 
 soul. 
 
 To-morrow they would be far parted. While she 
 was sleeping he would be riding eastwards and south- 
 wards from beautiful Touraine. Every breath she 
 drew in her gentle slumber would mark an added 
 distance between them. 
 
 It had come about in this fashion. 
 
 Elisabeth, subdued by the priest, and bowed to 
 the Will of God, had gone to the shrine of St. 
 Martin. While she was there, praying for the safety 
 of Hildebert and asking Heaven to give her strength 
 
 66
 
 FAREWELL 67 
 
 to bear her cross, a voice so she said had sounded 
 in her ear, saying, ' His brother shall be to him like a 
 shield, and in him shall the young one find a strong 
 protector. 1 
 
 Straightway she had risen from her knees, and 
 came running home, her face joyous with belief. 
 She found Nicholas talking with Gaspard, and tell- 
 ing how all his efforts to find the two children had 
 been fruitless. She burst in upon them with her 
 tidings. 'A miracle ! a miracle ! ' she cried. ' Blessed 
 St. Martin himself has spoken to me. . . .' 
 
 When Gaspard heard what had happened at the 
 shrine, he said, ' Last night I was made the Count's 
 Surgeon.' 
 
 Nicholas started, and questioned his son proudly. 
 But Elisabeth fell on her knees and wept to him. 
 ' Go to your brother,' she cried ; ' go to him, my 
 son ; for it is the will of Heaven, and your mother's 
 prayer.' 
 
 He stooped, lifted her up, and very pale, said, ' I 
 will go, mother ; but you must not kneel to me.' 
 
 She flung her arms about his neck, kissed him, 
 placed her hands upon his head and blessed him 
 with a mother's blessing. ' Now is my heart at 
 peace,' she had said ; ' for the Lord has surely 
 chosen thee to be thy brother's defence against the 
 Saracens.' 
 
 Nicholas had winked at him behind his wife's 
 back ; and at that moment, even in his bitter dis-
 
 68 FAREWELL 
 
 appointment, Gaspard had felt that he hated his 
 father. 
 
 Later, Nicholas drew him aside. ' This crusade,' 
 said he, 'is nothing more nor less than a summer 
 madness. The poor babes will march some hungry 
 leagues or so, and then sit down by the way and 
 bleat for their dams. That they should ever reach 
 Marseilles is a thought not to be reckoned with 
 much less Jerusalem ! And should they find mules 
 to go with, and get so far as Marseilles, the 
 sea will stop them. I am a religious man, my son, 
 as you know. God has prospered me. I do not use 
 my knees so often as your mother, having more 
 need of my brains ; but I believe, and I support the 
 Church, good or ill. Nevertheless I say that 
 miracles are rarer than some think.' He winked, 
 rubbed his hands, and laughed softly in his loose 
 cheeks. ' And I also say, lad, that God is not the 
 God I take Him to be if He send unarmed babes to 
 fight the dirty infidels. But, mark ! Women must 
 be soothed. A wise man will avoid argument with 
 these after-thoughts of the Creator. He will say, 
 " Yes, love," when he means, " No, hang it ! " and, 
 with a round emphasis, " No, sweet, of course not ! " 
 when he stoutly means, " You see if I don't." There- 
 fore, my handsome fellow, soothe your mother ; let 
 her think the Blessed St. Martin came down from 
 heaven to give her this idea; let her think that Hilde- 
 bert is sure to touch Holy Land ; let her think that
 
 FAREWELL 69 
 
 you will be there to skewer a dozen black-faced 
 Saracens before they so much as ruffle the fluff on 
 her darling's doublet ; but you, lad ' here he 
 touched Gaspard's ribs with a curved thumb ' you 
 spur after them, as quick as can be, sling them up, 
 willy-nilly, behind your saddle, and bring them back 
 here to eat salmagundi in the kitchen. I doubt not 
 they will be grateful for rescue ! ' 
 
 All this, but in his own way, Gaspard had told 
 to Isabel ; and Isabel, when she had thought for 
 some moments, asked him quietly : 
 
 ' Do you believe that this strange thing is from 
 God?' 
 
 ' No ! ' he said vigorously. 
 
 ' Why not ? ' 
 
 ' Because it is contrary to reason.' 
 
 ' Yet there is some spirit hi it,' she had said, half- 
 sighing, and turning her face away from him, ' which 
 makes as it were a sweet music in my heart. I ex- 
 pect you are right. I suppose it is all a delusion. 
 But I could wish it to be true, Gaspard. Do you 
 know what I mean ? I could wish God acted so.' 
 
 ' He has given us reason that we may act for our- 
 selves.' 
 
 ' But hearts ' 
 
 ' The heart He has fashioned for love and a fire- 
 side ; a sweet human gift it is, sweeter I discover 
 every fresh moment that you are near me. But 
 reason He has given us to use for dominion and
 
 70 FAREWELL 
 
 glory ; it is by reason that we subdue the earth, it 
 is by reason that we understand the soul of things, 
 and it is by reason we shall find Him in the end. 
 Think you all this power about us, all the hard 
 travail of the years, is for naught but the making of 
 fools ? I say Reason is the end of life.' 
 
 He began to break out in rage against the priests 
 who roofed the wretched bones of saints in shrines 
 of gold and precious jewels, and would not let 
 surgeon or physician have for holy science the corpse 
 of one they had murdered by their wicked powers. 
 
 But Isabel had covered his mouth with her hand. 
 ' Waste not my time with thy hobby ! ' she had said ; 
 ' for now at this moment I would have thee and thee 
 alone.' 
 
 And so they stood under the dark trees, very 
 sadly, very tenderly ; with the noise of the dark- 
 flowing river sounding through their whispers, their 
 eyes near, but their lips nearer. 
 
 ' When will it be thus again ? ' she sighed. 
 
 ' They will never reach Marseilles,' he said ; ' soon 
 I shall come back to you, and soon we will be man 
 and wife ; my heart is on fire for it.' 
 
 ' I feel,' she whispered sorrowfully, ' that it will 
 be long ere you come back.' 
 
 ' That cannot be, save that a week from you is 
 like an age from another.' 
 
 ' I am afraid.' 
 
 ' It is sadness.'
 
 FAREWELL 71 
 
 ' The other was too good ; it came too suddenly. 
 When I saw you this morning on that great horse, 
 when I saw your look of pride and victory do you 
 know what happened ? ' 
 
 ' TeH me.' 
 
 ' My heart stopped beating ; and I became cold 
 like stone. I said, The fall is not far.' 
 
 He smiled at her superstition. ' Sweet heart,' 
 said he, kissing her hair, ' I am still the Count's 
 Surgeon. The fall is not yet, and never shall be 
 while my brain is whole. I send word to him of this 
 chance to-morrow ; in a few weeks I shall be back ; 
 and the first thing I shall ask of him will be this. 
 Seigneur, I shall say, let me marry the girl who 
 believes hi my art and alone can hold me to my 
 path.' 
 
 His voice was so strong and sure that she looked 
 up at him, smiling. ' If men have ever been loved 
 more than you are loved by me, I think they must 
 have been as gods. Not only do I love thee, my 
 strong and straight-limbed man, but I worship and 
 adore thee.' 
 
 ' } Sweet, inexpressibly sweet, nay head-turning and 
 intoxicating words were these in Gaspard's ears ; 
 for not only did he greatly love the soul that breathed 
 them, but he had been ever one of those who go to 
 the wall of this world's affections and are as little 
 understood even by those nearest to them as they 
 are loved by the crowd.
 
 72 FAREWELL 
 
 When he came home he found that a messenger 
 from the Count had lately been there with sundry 
 gifts of game, saying also that he was to keep the 
 horse on which he had ridden from the castle, a 
 horse on which the King himself had ridden, and 
 was to come next morning as soon as might be after 
 dawn. 
 
 His mother watched him anxiously while Nicholas 
 gave this news. 
 
 ' You will not be false ? ' Elisabeth said, seeing 
 that his face flushed with pride. 
 
 ' Nay, mother, I will do your bidding.' 
 
 ' God's bidding,' she said solemnly. 
 
 ' Oh yes, dame, he will go to Holy Land,' said 
 Nicholas. ' Have no fear of that. Let the Count 
 look for another barber-surgeon. My son is St. 
 Martin's man now. Saracens, I warn ye ! your 
 days are numbered ! ' 
 
 Gaspard was to go before dawn. His father came 
 secretly to his room that night, a finger to his 
 lips, his eyes blinking, gave him a roll of gold, saying 
 solemnly and in a slow impressive whisper, ' Use it 
 wisely ; bring as much back as possible ; but bring 
 not a single piece home with you, if it be necessary 
 for a quick return.' He squared his shoulders and 
 spoke a tone louder. ' Remember, not only do I 
 want the little boy back, aye, and the girl, too, 
 bless her pretty face ; but the Count wants you. 
 Waste not an hour. Opportunities come from
 
 FAREWELL 73 
 
 Heaven ; if not taken they have a knack of going 
 to the other place, quick as lightning. My boy, the 
 Lord bless you.' 
 
 At the break of day Gaspard was dressing in 
 his room, carefully placing certain drugs and his 
 surgical instruments ready to go with him for he 
 hoped to call that very night on the Count when 
 his mother entered the room carrying two little 
 parcels. 
 
 ' Give this to your sister, and this to your brother,' 
 said she, in a voice that was full of tears. It was 
 easy to see she had not closed her eyes. ' And tell 
 Hildebert, dear son, that his mother sent it to him 
 and that it has touched the shrine of St. Martin.' 
 
 Gaspard did not know how it happened, but not 
 troubling to conceal his drugs from her, and as if 
 some invisible hand impelled him, he turned to the 
 table by the window, took up the Count's purse of 
 gold, and placing it hi his mother's hand, said to 
 her : 
 
 ' 111 may befall me, that, or I may not see home 
 again as soon as I could wish ; whatever chance, as 
 I shall surely give your gift to Hildebert, so give 
 you this purse to Isabel ; and say to her, mother, 
 that it is my husband's provision for her till I come 
 back again, and that I send it to her with my true 
 love ; and be ever kind to her, mother, as if she were 
 your own daughter, for my sake.' 
 
 Elisabeth said to him : ' I never knew ! But,
 
 74 FAREWELL 
 
 have faith, my son. God will reward you for this 
 sacrifice.' And she took his face hi her hands, and 
 kissed his brow. 
 
 ' Swear to me,' she said suddenly in an eager 
 voice, still holding his head, her grave eyes close to 
 his, ' that you will never leave your brother's side 
 till his soul is with God. Swear it to me, my son, on 
 the love I have given you.' 
 
 ' Mother,' he answered, ' I swear it.' 
 
 Then Gaspard went down the stairs, and passed 
 out into the street, and came to the inn where his 
 horse was stabled.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 A LAST GIFT 
 
 STILL shaken by this parting with his mother, 
 which haunted him strangely, Gaspard opened 
 the door of the stable and was about to grope 
 forward in the darkness, when a sow that had been 
 sleeping with her litter in one of the stalls, lifted her 
 head with a sharp growl, uttered a more joyous 
 grunt, and then, with a sudden scuttering, made for 
 daylight and the open air. 
 
 Quick as he was in springing back to shut the 
 door, Gaspard could only succeed in making the huge 
 sow a prisoner between door and lintel. At this such 
 a pandemonium arose as seemed like to wake the 
 whole city. First, the wriggling, kicking, plunging, 
 but prisoned sow herself uttered the most piercing 
 screams and reverberating yelps : second, the 
 entire Utter of twelve active piglets began to squeak 
 and squeal in a discordant chorus of hysterical 
 perturbation : third, innumerable fowls roosting in 
 the rafters and along the mangers started to cluck- 
 cluck-cluck and cackle as if the end of the world 
 were upon them : fourth, a cow with her calf at the 
 
 75
 
 76 A LAST GIFT 
 
 end of the stable rose hurriedly to her feet and 
 bellowed ferociously with an absurd exaggeration 
 of maternal solicitude : and last, every hungry dog 
 for a mile or more around began to bark and howl, 
 the one against the other, till you might have 
 thought the city was besieged. 
 
 As it happened, the din was providential. 
 
 ' Go, then, you ugly brute ! ' growled Gaspard, 
 who was blushing at the noise he had occasioned. 
 He opened the door, and bestowed a vengeful kick 
 on the departing sow. ' No, you don't ! ' he added 
 quickly, as the litter of piglets suddenly charged like 
 cavalry to join their victorious mother. 
 
 As he brushed them back with his feet, and made 
 fast the door, a voice from the far end of the stable 
 exclaimed sleepily and angrily, ' What's to do, 
 then ? what's to do ? Heaven bless little mice, 
 has the world come to an end ? ' 
 
 Gaspard stopped, craned his neck, and listened. 
 ' Who's about ? ' he asked sharply. 
 
 ' Who's about ! who isn't about ? ' demanded 
 the sleepy voice. There followed the sound of a 
 human yawn, the shuffling of straw, and Gaspard 
 could fancy the stretching of limbs and the blinking 
 of half -a wakened eyes. 
 
 He groped forward to find his horse. As he was 
 busy in the stall, saddling and bitting the Count's 
 handsome present, there was a sudden jump at the 
 end of the stable, and a voice he recognised with a
 
 A LAST GIFT 77 
 
 start exclaimed, ' By St. Martin's cloak, I believe 
 it's Gaspard ! ' 
 
 At the next moment Isabel's father came stum- 
 bling out of the darkness. ' Gaspard, lad,' said he ; 
 ' I've slept in straw this night for your sake. I've 
 mixed my holy dreams with the breath of cows, the 
 snores of pigs, the yawns of horses, and the sniffings 
 of muffled fowls. Rats have tickled my legs and 
 mice have taken my nostrils for their burrows. I 
 have suffered the tortures of a martyr. And why ? 
 For your sake, lad. If there's another man in all 
 France who'd do the like for you, name him, and 
 I'U dub him King of Fools.' 
 
 Gaspard smiled. ' What brings you here, 
 then ? ' 
 
 ' Sentiment, my boy ; the sentiment of a father 
 and an artist who can beat all the monks in 
 Christendom at their own work. For last night I 
 learned from Isabel what lies between you two, and 
 how the Count has made you his body's surgeon, 
 and how you must first ride after these mad children 
 who have got Saracens on the brain. Said I, " He 
 shall have something to keep my tall girl in his mind." 
 I went to your house ; but you were all a-bed. I 
 thought to myself : If I sleep at home he will be 
 gone before I am up. " Isabel," said I for she stood 
 at my side " show me where his horse is bedded and 
 I will couch there till he comes at dawn." And so I 
 did, lad, so I did ! With rats and bats, fowls and
 
 78 A LAST GIFT 
 
 owls, and sows and cows ! May I never pass 
 such another night. The saints protect me from 
 the troubled dreams of a horse, and the midnight 
 family affairs of cow and sow ! But it's over. Never 
 was I more glad to open eyes and sniff the dawn. 
 And here's what put me to it. Take it to the door 
 and let your eyes feast upon it. My boy, 'tis a 
 master's work, and a masterpiece ! ' 
 
 It was a miniature of Isabel, painted two years 
 since, but a veritable likeness, and done at a time 
 when her father's genius, at its highest, had not 
 abandoned itself to the corruption of drunkenness. 
 Gaspard stood at the door, his eyes shining, his lips 
 smiling, a colour in his cheeks. 
 
 ' I do not ask a penny for it,' said the proud 
 artist. ' Great as is my need for money at this 
 particular moment in my life of everlasting mis- 
 fortune, I say to you : Take it as a gift. Any man 
 else I would charge a gold piece for that gem of my 
 art, for it is a masterpiece, and I shall never achieve 
 greater.' 
 
 Gaspard felt in his belt. ' It is not for the 
 picture,' he said, pressing a gold coin into the 
 apparently unwilling but nevertheless tenacious 
 hand of Isabel's father ; ' the picture is a present, 
 and I will hold it so, always. But I pay for your 
 night's lodging.' 
 
 He bade the now happy artist tell Isabel that he 
 would soon be back, a week at the most, perhaps
 
 A LAST GIFT 79 
 
 the very next dawn, and charged him to say that he 
 went forth happier for the picture which was now 
 lying next his heart. 
 
 ' And mark this,' said the future father-in-law ; 
 ' 'tis a pleasanter thing by far to be the Count's 
 Surgeon and have a tall girl for wife, than to ride 
 after mad children. If your brother and sister will 
 not come back with you, let them go on alone ; but 
 you, do not you risk gold, honour, comfort, and 
 love by a foolish delay. They to their road, and you 
 to yours. Each man for himself. Aye, and re- 
 member the Count is a heady man ; disobey him, 
 and you lose not only wealth and love ; no, but may 
 be your clever head and all its contents will roll 
 after those other good things.' 
 
 Gaspard rode out of the inn-yard with an un- 
 comfortable feeling at his heart. Until now he had 
 not realised the risk he ran in offending this new 
 master. Suppose the Count should be angered. 
 Suppose he did not overtake the children that day, 
 and came back a week hence to find the Count's 
 door shut against him ! That would be a door shut 
 between him and fame, between his heart and 
 Isabel. 
 
 He debated whether he should not first ride to 
 the castle, look to his patient, explain to the Count, 
 and then go forward to keep faith with his mother. 
 Conscience would not approve. He had promised 
 his mother. Moreover, if he told his mission, the
 
 80 A LAST GIFT 
 
 Count might refuse to let him go. That meant an 
 oath broken, and an oath to his mother. 
 
 It was better to ride forward after the children 
 as hard as his good horse could go, and after he had 
 turned them home, to ride he hoped that very 
 sunset to the castle. He placed his hands to feel 
 for his instruments and drugs. Yes, he would reach 
 the castle ere set of sun. 
 
 So fresh, so calm, so happy and rejoicing was the 
 dawn, that Gaspard gradually lost the oppressive 
 sense of the great risk he ran. Like a true youth, 
 mounted on a fine horse, and riding at dawn through 
 a fair country, he saw but the rosy side of life. He 
 drew Isabel's picture from his doublet, regarded it in 
 the cup of his hand, smiled upon it, murmured to it, 
 called her his 'Pretty' and his 'Sweet,' and even 
 sang two lines of a love ballad 
 
 So let life run as run it will, 
 If I have thee I'm happy still. 
 
 Then, out of desire to be back with her soon, he 
 thrust the picture into his bosom, gathered up his 
 reins, settled himself in the saddle, and set off at a 
 light canter. 
 
 ' What shall I call you, old true-heart ? ' he said 
 to the horse. ' You were yesterday a Count's, you 
 have been ridden by a King, and now you have 
 ascended to be a Surgeon's Pegasus. Are you not 
 proud, my beauty ? How your brown coat shines
 
 A LAST GIFT 81 
 
 in the sun ; how black and crisp your mane ; how 
 tempestuous your great neck ; how mountainous 
 your shoulder ; how musical your hoofs upon the 
 earth ! What shall I call you ? Carry me swiftly, 
 and I will call you Mercury. Carry me safely, and 
 I will call you Michael. Nay, what shall I call you ? 
 Something it must be that runs with Isabel and 
 sounds with Fame and breathes of Love.' 
 
 He laughed in the joy of the exercise, and felt 
 himself grow warm with happiness and joy. 
 
 The country through which he rode has in it 
 nothing of the savage or impressive. It is like a 
 water-colour, a landscape of light tints and gentle 
 lines. The sky is lofty and azure, with white clouds 
 that have the brilliance of snow. The hills do not 
 spring from the ground nor aspire to the heavens ; 
 they undulate like fruitful furrows that belong to 
 man and the earth. The rivers flow without energy, 
 describing languorous curves through their jocund 
 valleys, making themselves the mirror of the clouds 
 and the glass of verdurous islands floating in the 
 midst of their green waters. On every side are 
 vineyards and stretches of pasture, with forest 
 spreading away into the tremulous mist of horizons 
 soft as sleep. 
 
 'So should smell the cities of men,' thought 
 
 Gaspard, snuffing the cold sweet air. And at that 
 
 he fell to dreaming of the future the future of the 
 
 human race, as he saw it in the glow of his en- 
 
 G
 
 82 A LAST GIFT 
 
 lightened genius. He saw cities of noble streets, 
 planted with trees and spread with gardens ; he 
 saw men walking there who had risen above the 
 baseness of common sin and the dishonourable 
 servitude of superstition ; he saw tall and beautiful 
 women in that city with happy children at their 
 side ; and nowhere was there tyranny of priest or 
 soldier or seigneur ; neither ugliness of human 
 countenance nor deformity of human body but a 
 race like angels, strong, vigorous, and alive to 
 wonder, beauty, and the heaven of knowledge. . . . 
 
 All day he rode, baiting his horse here and there, 
 and at night came to an inn without having heard 
 one single intelligent word of the children's pilgrim- 
 age. He went to bed ill at ease, and could not sleep 
 for some hours, worrying his brain as to what Isabel 
 would be thinking and the Count saying of him. 
 
 On the following morning he was riding somewhat 
 dejected over a smooth country when he came to a 
 green bank of hills which rose gently and easily 
 upwards from the vineyards at their feet. To shake 
 off the mood that weighed down his spirits, he 
 clapped heels to his horse, which had so far only 
 walked from the inn, and made up the hillside at 
 a smart canter. 
 
 The hoofs of his horse scattered sweet dew in a 
 drifting smoke ; the air came cold and crisp to his 
 face and neck, rustling past his ears ; the sun 
 dazzled his eyes ; the birds sang joyously from
 
 A LAST GIFT 83 
 
 thicket and sky ; he took pleasure from the smell of 
 his horse's heating coat. 
 
 He drew rein on the top of the hill, and let Pegasus, 
 Mercury, and Michael go slowly forward, snuffing 
 with satisfaction and stretching his thick neck till 
 the muzzle, soft as velvet, almost brushed the dew. 
 
 ' To the right or to the left ? ' Gaspard asked 
 himself. ' To the right I may be ahead of them, 
 and have to wait : to the left I may be behind, and 
 have to spur after them.' 
 
 He was thus thinking, when the horse brought 
 him to the further side of the hill, where it descended 
 with a sharper precipitance to the other valley. 
 For a few moments his eyes rested themselves on the 
 infinite distance of the horizon, which quivered, 
 throbbed, and glowed with the riot of the dawn ; 
 then bringing them nearer and downward to choose 
 his way, he suddenly started in his saddle, uttered 
 a sharp cry, and stood up in his stirrups, gazing 
 downwards like a man spelled out of his senses.
 
 . CHAPTER IX 
 
 GASPARD PERFORMS A MIRACLE, 
 AND PROPHESIES 
 
 rilHE spectacle which took Gaspard's breath 
 -- away was one of the most amazing sights 
 which human eyes have ever seen. 
 
 An army of children, stirring a dust of gold from 
 the road, was marching through the land of France. 
 
 Standing in his stirrups on the hill-top, the 
 morning sun in his face, he looked down upon this 
 immense army of children winding southwards and 
 interminably between the green and quiet fields 
 below. As far each way as gaze could reach moved 
 this wonderful column of boys and girls, this amazing 
 army of young life, stretching and winding in vast 
 sinuous curves like some tremendous river or some 
 gorgeous ribbon fallen out of heaven. He could 
 scarce believe his eyes. Save for the dust rising from 
 under their feet it might have been a dream. But 
 it was a true sight. For the first time it came home 
 to him that this crusade was a real and living thing. 
 He looked to his right, children were disappearing 
 into the gloom of distant trees ; he looked to his 
 
 84
 
 GASPARE PERFORMS A MIRACLE 85 
 
 left, children were emerging from the shoulder of 
 the hills. And between those two distant points 
 stretched the unbroken river of childhood, the great 
 glittering ribbon of infancy, with the dust drifting 
 like smoke from beneath their feet. Leagues and 
 leagues of children ! He leaned forward, and studied, 
 as well as he could from that height, the scene before 
 him. 
 
 With the thousands of children were some 
 hundreds of men, a few mounted on mules and 
 horses, but most of them walking ; priests and 
 monks, merchants and peasants, thieves and 
 vagabonds a strange medley of humanity. As 
 for the children, some were as old apparently as 
 himself, tall, strong, thick-set young men, who 
 marched freely and with a high courage ; the 
 majority he judged to be of Hildebert's age, children 
 of twelve or thirteen years. But in that vast army 
 there were thousands of children who were little 
 more than babes, tiny boys dragging weary feet 
 and yet turning to encourage still smaller girls with 
 whom they walked hand in hand. And the colours 
 and the texture of their garments told of a universal 
 instinct for some of the children were richly, even 
 splendidly dressed ; others were in the sober, lasting 
 hues of the peasantry ; and others yet again in the 
 sacking and rags of utmost beggary. Above their 
 heads here and there floated banners ; pennons 
 fluttered at the end of spears ; many wore a red
 
 86 GASPARD PERFORMS A MIRACLE 
 
 cross on the breast or arm ; the little ones had 
 crowned themselves with garlands gathered on the 
 way. 
 
 As Gaspard stood in his stirrups, the sound of 
 voices rose to him from the valley ; and as he 
 watched he saw those thousands of faces lifted up- 
 ward to the sky, and was conscious of a radiance in 
 them, like the light of the sun. 
 
 He could not hear what words they were singing, 
 but the music spoke to him of religion, and religion 
 as never before he had understood that passion of 
 the human soul. It was the faith of a little child 
 rising up in ecstasy to heavens visible with blessing. 
 
 Gaspard muttered inarticulate impatience, and, 
 sitting down in his saddle, walked his horse slowly 
 and obliquely down the side of the hill. 
 
 He said to himself : ' This means Marseilles, or I 
 am a fool. Curses on him who first set this madness 
 afloat. Only the sea will stop it.' 
 
 He began to think of Isabel, and then of the 
 Count. His surgical instruments jingled in their 
 case as the horse went slowly and jerkily down the 
 hill. He ground his teeth in angry rage. Yesterday 
 the world was at his feet, like a ball. Fate had 
 kicked it away from him. There was nothing before 
 him now but the Count's enmity and perhaps ruin, 
 disgrace, even death. 
 
 - Fool, fool ! Why had he let his heart be touched 
 by a kneeling mother ? Did not his reason warn
 
 GASPARD PERFORMS A MIRACLE 87 
 
 him at the time that sentiment plays havoc with a 
 man's affairs ? He should have said ' No ! ' to his 
 mother. He should have seen her tears unmoved. 
 He should have held firmly to his course. ' I have 
 my own life to think of ! ' Yes, he should have said 
 that, and stuck to it ; even if she had cursed 
 him. 
 
 Weeks must surely elapse before he could get back. 
 Hildebert, he told himself, would keep on till the 
 bitter end. Falaise might turn homewards, perhaps 
 even now was stumbling footsore towards the roofs 
 and towers of Chateauneuf ; but Hildebert would 
 limp onwards till the sea stopped him. 
 
 And Gaspard had sworn to his mother . . . 
 
 As he drew near the children he heard the words 
 of their battle-song : 
 
 Jesus Christ, repair our loss, 
 Unto us restore Thy Cross ! 
 
 He set his teeth and frowned upon them, looking 
 hither and thither for sight of Hildebert or Falaise. 
 He felt himself ill at ease and out of countenance, 
 like a sane man joining a host of the mad. 
 
 As he drew rein and sat watching the children file 
 past him many were pale and already limped 
 sorely a lusty fellow some forty years of age, black- 
 bearded and olive-skinned, with a nose broken across 
 his face, gold rings in his ears, and as evil a smile 
 on his mouth as ever life of iniquity bestowed on
 
 88 GASPARD PERFORMS A MIRACLE 
 
 human face, came to Gaspard's side, laid his hand 
 on the horse's neck, and demanded rather than asked 
 whether he meant to join them for Jerusalem. 
 
 ' I look to go as far as any, said Gaspard, meeting 
 his gaze. 
 
 'Come on, then,' said the man, laughing good- 
 heartedly. ' A brave word ! You're the soul of my 
 blood. Look you, you and I will be companions, 
 brothers in arms, David and Jonathan ! We'll share 
 board and bite, prayers and vigils, feasts and fastings. 
 And like true Christians, young master for I like 
 the cut and colour of your face we'll share this 
 great fat lazy horse of yours. Ah, that we will. 
 A bargain is a bargain. When you're tired of riding, 
 I'll be'tired of walking ; and you shall wear out your 
 shoes while I am wearing out my hose on your 
 saddle. A fine saddle, too ; fit for a lord, or I'm no 
 judge of leather and never set toe to stirrup. On my 
 word, we'll call you the Prince of this affair. Stephen 
 shall be saint ; but you shall be prince. On, then ! 
 I walk at your stirrup.' 
 
 Gaspard said to him : ' Tell me, my friend, what 
 profit do you look to get out of this madness ? ' 
 
 The other laughed. ' A few sins shriven, perhaps 
 a hundred or more days' indulgence, much spiritual 
 edification, and, in the end, a halo, a harp, and a 
 golden throne ! ' 
 
 Gaspard said grimly, " I see there are more of your 
 kidney following these babes.'
 
 GASPARD PERFORMS A MIRACLE 89 
 
 ' Not too many for the pickings, I hope,' laughed 
 the other, looking about him. 
 
 ' How far do you think they'll get ? ' 
 
 ' Lyons, perhaps, or thereabouts. A good many 
 have dropped already.' 
 
 ' Do they carry much money ? ' 
 
 The man glanced shrewdly up at Gaspard. 
 ' Brother,' said he, ' I'll answer that question when 
 you're walking and I'm riding ! ' He lifted his hand 
 to his beard, pulled it forward through his fingers, 
 and gave it a twist upward. ' You're an enquirer, 
 then ? ' he asked. ' A student, eh ? ' With a laugh 
 he took a full-length inventory of Gaspard, and went 
 forward smiling. 
 
 ' What's to be made out of these babes ? ' de- 
 manded Gaspard. 
 
 ' Change places, comrade, and I'll tell you.' 
 
 ' The King's horse is not for the likes of you,' said 
 Gaspard. 
 
 The other looked quickly up. ' The King's horse ? 
 The likes of me ? What's your meaning, comrade ? ' 
 
 ' That 3 7 ou'll learn later,' said Gaspard darkly. 
 He shook the reins, touched the horse with the heel 
 nearest to the robber, and went forward at a sharp 
 trot. 
 
 He rode up the line of singing children, scanning 
 all the faces, some of them so piteous, wan, and 
 pale that his heart ached for them. At about three 
 hundred yards from the head of this great host,
 
 90 GASPARD PERFORMS A MIRACLE 
 
 he came upon Hildebert hand in hand with Falaise. 
 Hildebert was singing. 
 
 ' Well,' he said, ' are you tired yet ? ' 
 
 Falaise turned pale, affected to look scornful, 
 and afterwards averted her face. 
 
 Hildebert ceased singing. After his first look of 
 alarm, he cast envious eyes on Gaspard's horse. 
 
 * Isn't it time you rode home with me ? ' Gaspard 
 asked. 
 
 ' Home ! ' cried Hildebert, his face falling. ' We 
 are going to Jerusalem.' 
 
 ' And footsore already ? ' 
 
 ' We do not mind.' 
 
 ' What will you do when you come to the sea ? ' 
 
 Hildebert's cheeks flushed with joy. ' Have you 
 not heard, Gaspard ? God has spoken to Stephen. 
 Yes ! When we get to the sea the waters will roll 
 away to the right hand and the left, and we shall 
 pass over on dry land, like the Israelites pursued by 
 Pharaoh's chariots.' 
 
 ' Do you believe it ? ' asked Gaspard, frowning. 
 
 ' Believe it ! God has said so ! Why ! do you 
 think God cannot make the sea obey Him ? Do 
 you think He is only a man ? You do not know 
 what has been happening. Stephen has performed 
 miracles. Ask Falaise. Sick people come out in 
 villages and towns to touch his dress, and they are 
 healed at once. We have seen hundreds, haven't we, 
 Falaise ? They give us food, and we sleep in their
 
 GASPARD PERFORMS A MIRACLE 91 
 
 houses, and we pray for them, and some of their 
 children join us. God has told Stephen that the sea 
 will divide for us, so it must be true.' 
 
 Gaspard said : ' Among Stephen's miracles, does 
 he cure feet that are weary and legs that are like 
 lead ? ' 
 
 ' We are not tired ! ' said Hildebert. 
 
 ' See me do a miracle,' said Gaspard, and dis- 
 mounted. ' Now, Hildebert, up you go, and you too, 
 Falaise.' 
 
 Hildebert, after making Gaspard promise solemnly 
 that he would not leave the procession, allowed 
 himself to be lifted on the saddle ; but Falaise 
 continued to avert her head and would not speak to 
 Gaspard. 
 
 ' And now hear me prophesy,' said Gaspard. 
 ' Unless you turn back before Marseilles is reached 
 your heart will be broken.' 
 
 Hildebert, seated on the great horse, took no 
 notice of these words. Lifting his face, he burst 
 into the battle-song, with a new glory in his eyes : 
 
 Jesus Christ, repair our loss, 
 Unto us restore Thy Cross !
 
 CHAPTER X 
 LAST APPEALS 
 
 T)ITY for his brother's pale face and exhausted 
 J- strength had moved Gaspard to set Hildebert 
 on his horse. And now, as he walked beside him, 
 something akin to tenderness stirred in his heart 
 and mingled with this strong compassion. He 
 remembered how amusing Hildebert had been as a 
 baby, how charming as an infant, how delightful, 
 beautiful, and affectionate as a little boy. 
 
 Who could have foreseen this frightful catastrophe 
 in a childhood so overflowing with sweetness and 
 pleasant charm ? Alas, but for this madness, how 
 good had been the life at home ! He pictured to 
 himself that domestic life as he could have wished 
 it to be, and as it might have been but for this extra- 
 ordinary folly. He saw himself the great and 
 famous Surgeon of the Count. His prosperous 
 father proud of him ; his careful mother rejoicing 
 in him ; Falaise the bosom friend of Isabel ; and 
 Hildebert, helped and encouraged by his famous 
 brother, rising in the world to be a great artist 
 the painter of exquisite pictures, the writer of wise 
 and beautiful books. 
 
 92
 
 LAST APPEALS 93 
 
 How bright and comfortable seemed to him in 
 retrospect the little circular kitchen, with the blazing 
 fire, the smells of cooking food, the rushes strewed 
 on the floor, the table set out with its trenchers of 
 bread, and the family gathered there after the day's 
 work in the light of the cheerful lamp. 
 
 ' Hildebert,' he said, rather mournfully, ' your 
 mother's heart is sad for you, and I think there is 
 no man in France so wistful now as your father. 
 Is it well that you go on ? Is it well that you turn 
 your back on all their love, and care, and tender 
 thoughtfulness ? Remember, few children in this 
 world are loved as you. From the opening of your 
 eyes it has been for you nothing but smiles and 
 pretty words and everything you asked. Such 
 things are not to be misprized without great sin 
 against our human nature. Have you thought 
 about these precious things ? Have you made 
 certain in your soul that to slight them and reject 
 them is God's Will with you ? ' 
 
 Hildebert had ceased singing while his brother 
 spoke. But he listened with impatience, shifting 
 in the saddle that was so big for him, as if he would 
 have the horse go faster, a light in his eye and a 
 colour in his face which showed that he felt it im- 
 possible for Gaspard to understand what was in his 
 soul. 
 
 ' God called me, and I must go on ! ' he said, 
 looking ahead of him. * Mother will understand,
 
 94 LAST APPEALS 
 
 because I have asked God to tell her how it is 
 when she is praying. And besides, I shall come 
 back. Falaise and I will come back, carrying our 
 sheaves ! ' 
 
 ' How came you to steal away at night ? ' 
 
 ' Falaise called me.' 
 
 ' Falaise ! ' 
 
 ' She came to me and said you can ask her 
 that God wished her to go to Holy Land ; and that 
 I was to rise and go with her. She said God had 
 called us both to go.' 
 
 Gaspard was thinking hard. 
 
 Presently he went to the other side of the horse, 
 where he was next to his sister. She paled at seeing 
 him, and turned away her face. 
 
 ' Falaise,' he said to her, ' I want to ask you a 
 question. But first let me tell you that happiness 
 has died out of the home, that nothing is there now 
 except the dust and ashes of all that was before ; 
 and thus it must be till you and Hildebert return. 
 Now, I will ask you my question. Did God call 
 you to this mad and foolish business, or did anger 
 with me drive you to it ? ' 
 
 She would not answer. 
 
 He placed a hand on her arm, but she drew away 
 from him. ' If I offended you,' he said quietly, 
 ' I am sorry ; I beg your pardon. But in the name 
 of Heaven do not sacrifice father and mother, the 
 home life, your future happiness, everything, for
 
 LAST APPEALS 95 
 
 what ? A little black mark in your mind against 
 poor me ! ' 
 
 She tried to laugh. ' You are quite wrong ! ' she 
 said. 
 
 ' I think I am right.' 
 
 ' Then/ she cried triumphantly, ' you suppose 
 that all these thousands and thousands of children 
 are here marching to Holy Land simply because they 
 are angry with you ! ' She turned away and tried to 
 join in the singing, but her voice broke. 
 
 Gaspard felt himself beaten. It was useless to 
 argue with Hildebert in his exalted state ; hopeless 
 to turn the heart of Falaise, who had taken a 
 dangerous step, knew it, but had not will enough to 
 retrace it. There was nothing for it but to wait for 
 the sea. 
 
 He felt his arm touched from behind. ' Please, 
 sir,' pleaded a child's voice a voice weak and 
 gasping with exhaustion ' please, sir, is that 
 Jerusalem ? ' 
 
 A little child, eight years of age, with hollow 
 cheeks and eyes from which all lustre had faded, 
 a dusty, pale, shrivelled, hungry, limping, and 
 almost breathless child, was pointing forward to a 
 few houses prominent in the distance against the 
 midday sky. 
 
 ' Nay, my son/ said Gaspard, * yonder is not 
 Jerusalem ; but take a better look at it, and you 
 shall see for yourself.' He stooped down, lifted the
 
 96 LAST APPEALS 
 
 boy in his arms, and set him in front of Hildebert. 
 Then he turned to Falaise. * Is it God's will, think 
 you, that this little one should suffer thus ? How 
 many have fallen ? How many will die before the 
 sea is reached ? The sea ! And then, the, march 
 back ! Have you thought of that ? The march 
 back ! Over all these miles. The march back 
 back from a sea that has not parted for you, back 
 from a God in whom you have ceased to believe, 
 back to a world that will laugh at you and mock 
 you for your pains ! ' 
 
 It was useless to speak. Onward pressed that 
 host of hungry and footsore children, the dust 
 rising about them, the treble of their weary voices 
 breaking every now and then into song and hymn, 
 the miles passing slowly, grudgingly, mockingly, 
 under their sore and dragging feet. 
 
 ' Hildebert ! ' he said suddenly, ' but for my 
 horse you would be like that child in front of you. 
 Look at him well. Is that God's Will with you ? ' 
 
 ' God sent me your horse,' answered Hildebert. 
 
 ' If your mother could see you, broken, foot- 
 sore, spent, dying like a dog on the road ! ' 
 
 ' You cannot frighten me, Gaspard. God is so 
 close to us.' 
 
 ' Turn back in pity's name ! ' 
 
 ' If you need your horse, take him. I will walk. 
 Nay, I would rather walk,' and he slipped off the 
 horse and joined the ranks, singing the battle- 
 song.
 
 LAST APPEALS 97 
 
 Gaspard said bitterly : ' That I should live to 
 see you tread underfoot the heart of your mother ! ' 
 
 ' Did she send you to taunt me ? ' demanded 
 Hildebert. ' I do not believe it ! No ; my mother 
 believes in God. I have prayed to Him, and He has 
 told her how it must be. She is contented. It is my 
 father only who wants me home. My mother has 
 not sent you. I am sure she has not sent you.' 
 
 His words reminded Gaspard of the two packets 
 in his doublet. 
 
 He drew them forth. ' Yes and no,' he said. 
 ' Mother did send me after you, but not to taunt 
 you, not even to bring you back unless you wish to 
 come. And she sent these things to you. This for 
 you, Falaise, and this for you bidding me say, 
 Hildebert, that she carried it to the shrine of St. 
 Martin and laid it there for a blessing.' 
 
 His hand, searching for these gifts, had touched 
 the miniature ; he drew it from his doublet, looked 
 at it a moment, and then showed it to the boy on 
 the horse. ' That's a pretty picture, isn't it ? ' he 
 asked. The boy's eyes opened wide. 
 
 ' Oh, it's the prettiest picture I ever saw ! ' he 
 exclaimed. ' It's like an angel, isn't it ? ' 
 
 Gaspard smiled. ' It is an angel, my son.' Then 
 he took the miniature from the boy's hand. ' I'd 
 give it to you,' he said, ' only it happens to be the 
 thing I love best of all my possessions. I'd rather 
 lose a hand than that little picture, my son ! '.
 
 98 LAST APPEALS 
 
 He was interrupted. 
 
 ' It is her own rosary,' said Falaise, but without 
 enthusiasm. She held up the old brown rosary 
 which had been familiar to the children from infancy. 
 
 ' Look ! ' cried Hildebert, a shout in his voice. 
 
 Gaspard turned, and there in the boy's hand, 
 shaken by his excitement, was a little cross of red 
 silk. ' Now I know,' cried Hildebert, his face 
 wonderful, ' that God has told my mother. On, on ! 
 I am happy now. Falaise, will you stitch it for me 
 on my doublet ? not on my sleeve, over my 
 heart ! ' 
 
 A weak voice appealed to Gaspard on the other 
 side. ' Yes ? ' he said, turning to the little boy on the 
 horse. 
 
 ' Please, sir, what do you call your horse ? ' 
 
 ' I call him ' said Gaspard, and stopped. 
 
 On the other side of the horse was the man with 
 the black beard, glancing at him with evident 
 malice. For a moment Gaspard felt uneasy. 
 
 ' Will you permit me a word with you ? ' asked 
 Blackbeard. He laughed, took his pointed beard in 
 his hand, and gave it an upward turn. 
 
 ' What is it ? ' asked Gaspard. 
 
 * You said, I think, that you rode the King's 
 horse ? ' 
 
 ' WeU ? ' 
 
 Blackboard's eyebrows began to twitch. ' Have 
 you the animal's pedigree ? '
 
 LAST APPEALS 99 
 
 ' What is that to you ? ' 
 
 ' Or His Majesty's warrant ? ' 
 
 ' The same answer, sir ! ' 
 
 Blackboard laughed, showing broken teeth. ' I've 
 met fools on my travels before,' said he, playing 
 with the point of his beard, ' but never yet have I 
 seen a man so run and so ask for the scaffold.' 
 He dropped behind, and Gaspard heard him say in 
 a loud voice, ' The King's horse ! There's one here 
 has His Sacred Majesty's horse ! ' 
 
 For some time Gaspard walked in silence, thinking 
 what this man meant. Then the little boy asked 
 him again, ' Please, sir, what is your horse's name ? ' 
 
 ' His name ? Oh, I call him Crusader,' answered 
 Gaspard. 
 
 ' Oh,' exclaimed the child, ' what a lovely name ! ' 
 He stooped forward and laid his cheek on the 
 horse's mane. ' Crusader,' he said, ' I do love 
 you so.'
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 THE MINIATURE 
 
 THEY stopped at the town which Gaspard's 
 little boy had mistaken for Jerusalem. The 
 people stood at their doors, lined the sides of the 
 houses, and filled the windows. All the bells seemed 
 to be ringing. In the distance Gaspard caught 
 glimpses of priestly robes and above the heads of 
 the people saw a lifted gold cross which flashed with 
 jewels. 
 
 He enquired for a stable, and being taken for 
 one of the Crusaders, found a dozen people willing 
 to show him the way. When he had fed his horse 
 and rubbed him down with straw, he took the little 
 boy's hand and led him into the inn, calling for 
 food. 
 
 ' I have told you my horse's name,' said he ; 'it 
 is tune that you told me yours.' 
 
 ' I am Felix,' said the boy. 
 
 Gaspard smiled. ' Sit down, my Lord Felix, 
 and eat what they set before you. In a few minutes 
 1 will return. You are not afraid ? ' 
 
 The boy drew himself up and pointed to his red 
 100
 
 THE MINIATURE 101 
 
 cross. ' I am hungry,' he answered ; * but I am 
 not afraid.' 
 
 I Gaspard patted his head. ' Spoken like a true 
 knight. Well, wait for me here,' he said, and went 
 into the streets again, to search for Hildebert and 
 Falaise. 
 
 As he turned a corner of one of these crooked 
 lanes he came into the central square and saw a 
 great church on the opposite side of the way. 
 The whole place was thronged with excited people, 
 and at the doors of the church stood a row of priests, 
 a bishop in their centre, while a boy, standing in a 
 cart with his back to the church, was addressing the 
 multitude. 
 
 ' That must be Stephen of Cloyes,' thought 
 Gaspard ; he was conscious of a sudden interest to 
 see and hear the child who had so bewitched the 
 infancy of France. 
 
 It was not easy to see him clearly, for the distance 
 was great and many of the people held children on 
 their shoulders. It was still less easy to hear him, 
 for though he spoke passionately, there was such a 
 shuffling of feet, such a straining to hear, such a 
 murmur of conversation on every side, that the 
 actual words were drowned. 
 
 But Gaspard was impressed by the spectacle. 
 The row of old and reverend men in priestly gar- 
 ments, and the splendid fretted stone of the cathedral 
 rising lofty and severe behind them, made a back-
 
 102 THE MINIATURE 
 
 ground which seemed to force, to project the child 
 forward into some supernatural and most striking 
 prominence. And there before him, before this 
 mere child in a dusty cart, were thousands of men 
 and women standing in a dense mass, the eyes 
 lifted, the ears turned, their souls centred on the 
 shepherd boy from Cloyes. Gaspard looked at the 
 gorgeous arches, the austere pillars, the vast rose- 
 window filling the great west front of the church, 
 and upward still to the calm and tranquil belfry 
 towers solitary against the blue of heaven ; and 
 then he let his eyes pass slowly over that sea of 
 humanity, dense as forest leaves, that great frozen 
 sea which filled the whole place from side to side 
 as far as eye could reach ; and last of all, he brought 
 his gaze back to the child in the cart the Shepherd 
 of Cloyes, the Prophet of God ! 
 
 What could be made of it ? So far as he could 
 judge, this Stephen of Cloyes appeared to be a lad 
 of twelve, perhaps fourteen years of age. A brown- 
 faced, dark-haired, strong-featured boy ; a boy 
 clearly of the fields and the open air. The voice was 
 passionate and hoarse ; the gestures were uncouth ; 
 the bearing was wild and undisciplined ; nothing 
 of a mystic, nothing of a saint, but as clearly 
 nothing of a rogue. 
 
 Gaspard could make nothing of it. 
 
 He turned about, elbowed his way through the 
 people, and set off to join his little friend at the inn.
 
 THE MINIATURE 103 
 
 To search for Hildebert and Falaise in that crowd 
 was a hopeless task ; wisdom told him to go and eat 
 his dinner with Felix and look that his horse was safe. 
 
 As luck would have it, passing through one of the 
 dark streets on his way to the inn, he caught sight of 
 Blackboard. The rogue was standing at a door, a 
 bowl in his hand, which he jingled as he addressed 
 the people inside. Some loafers on the other side 
 of the way watched him dubiously. A few women 
 leaned from upper windows. Gaspard paused and 
 listened. 
 
 ' For the children I beg, the poor children who 
 go to take Holy Land from the Saracens,' said 
 Blackbeard ; his earrings moved as he jerked the 
 bowl. ' Give to them, and your stay in purgatory 
 will be brief. Give to them, generous friends, and 
 the saints will bless you.' He looked up at the 
 windows, shaking his bowl. ' Think how far they 
 have to go ! Think how tired and hungry they 
 must be ere Jerusalem is reached. Give, good 
 friends, give ! It is the Will of God.' 
 
 Gaspard could bear it no longer. Then, as now, 
 men saw wrong done, disapproved, experienced 
 anger, but passed on. Then, as now, many a 
 righteous man refrained from reproaching that 
 which his soul condemned. But Gaspard's fiery 
 blood was linked up with his moral sense and 
 throbbed through all the chambers of his soul. He 
 strode across the street, approached the man and
 
 104 THE MINIATURE 
 
 demanded who it was that commissioned him to 
 beg for the pilgrims. 
 
 Blackboard swung round with a smothered oath, 
 showing his broken teeth. 
 
 In a minute there was a crowd about them. 
 
 ' Ah ! ' cried one, ' I took him for a rogue from 
 the first ! ' 
 
 ' Empty his bowl for him,' cried another. 
 
 ' To the river with the robber,' said a third. 
 
 Blackboard turned from Gaspard, and addressed 
 the people. His dark face was flushed with indigna- 
 tion. ' Who stops me in my blessed work ? ' he 
 demanded. ' Who is it ? Shall I tell you ? It's a 
 thief, a horse thief ! Follow him to his inn. See for 
 yourself. See the horse he rides and the saddle he 
 sits on. Friends, he seeks to injure me because I 
 know his crime. He is afraid of me. I'll tell you 
 all what he has done. Listen ! He has stolen the 
 King's horse ! ' 
 
 Gaspard had stood trembling, his jaws locked, 
 his clenched fists trembling at his hips, while Black- 
 beard spouted forth his calumny. But now he 
 sprang upon the man and seized him by the throat. 
 ' Robber, you lie ! you lie, like the fiend that you 
 are ! ' he cried fiercely. The two bodies, clipped to- 
 gether, writhed and swayed. The money in the bowl 
 jerked itself across the street, struck the opposite 
 walls, and rolled into the gutters. The instruments 
 in Gaspard's doublet clashed like knives.
 
 THE MINIATURE 105 
 
 The crowd burst into delighted laughter. ' Let 
 them fight it out,' they cried. ' Let the two rogues 
 settle it between them ! ' 'Go it, horse-thief ! ' 
 ' Look out for his knife, lad ! ' ' There they go ; 
 both of them down ! ' 
 
 Gaspard seized the villain's knife hand ; at the 
 same time, placing a foot behind his leg, he pressed 
 him suddenly backward with a wrench to the left 
 which brought him down. They fell heavily and 
 rolled in the road, the feet of the crowd hastily 
 withdrawing from their vicinity. A woman at an 
 upper window burst into a comfortable laugh. 
 
 ' Drop your knife ! ' cried Gaspard. He was on 
 top. 
 
 Blackbeard, amazed at the boy's strength, lay 
 quiet, waiting for his breath. The glare in his dark 
 eyes had the horror of murder. 
 
 ' Drop it ! ' commanded Gaspard, twisting back 
 the wrist. 
 
 At that moment there was one of those accidents 
 which in an instant turn tragedy into sorriest 
 comedy. A woman at one of the upper windows, 
 unmindful of the crowd below, threw the contents 
 of a housewife's slop-pail into the street. 
 
 The crowd parted with a roar of dismay. Gaspard 
 remained where he was. ' Drop your knife,' he kept 
 saying. 
 
 ' To the river with them ! ' cried the crowd, 
 the man worse drenched among them leading the
 
 106 THE MINIATURE 
 
 way, angrily. ' To the river with the thieves ! ' 
 Violent hands were laid upon Gaspard. The knife 
 was trodden by furious feet out of Blackboard's 
 hand. At the next moment they were separated, 
 each in the hands of the mob. People came out of 
 their houses and swelled the crowd. 
 
 ' To the river with them, to the river with the 
 thieves ! ' Some were laughing ; those who had 
 been drenched were cursing. Every moment the 
 crowd swelled. 
 
 Gaspard felt himself shot forward, hands at his 
 shoulders, hands at his waist, hands round his 
 wrists. His feet were borne off the ground. 
 
 Breathless and helpless, a hundred thoughts 
 flashed through his mind as he went ignominiously 
 forward. He thought of the drugs and instruments 
 in his doublet ; of the Count ; of the operation he 
 had performed ; of Isabel ; of her miniature ; of 
 the sow that he had jammed in the stable door ; of 
 the cathedral front with Stephen of Cloyes address- 
 ing the crowd ; of the gold cross he had seen with 
 the flashing jewels ; of Blackboard's knife ; of 
 Falaise with her face averted from him ; of Hilde- 
 bert's little red cross ; of his father's wink behind 
 his mother's back and, last of all, but with a most 
 poignant sense of wretchedness and guilt, of the poor 
 little boy awaiting him at the inn. 
 
 ' From the bridge or the quay ? ' asked one of 
 the running voices behind him. Another voice
 
 THE MINIATURE 107 
 
 replied, between panting breaths, ' Ours from the 
 bridge.' At this Gaspard felt himself whirled away 
 to the left and caught a glimpse of Blackbeard 
 being rushed past him on the right. 
 
 The lane in which he found himself was dark with 
 ancient houses, and ascended slightly with a sharp 
 curve at the end. The lower parts of these houses 
 consisted of shops ; the quarter was evidently a 
 centre of some importance in trade. Few people 
 were about, but those who stood in the streets or sat 
 in the shops made no offer to interfere in Gaspard's 
 behalf. They had wares to watch, affairs of their 
 own which touched gold and silver. 
 
 Where the lane curved, however, Gaspard's 
 progress was brought to a sudden stop. A long, 
 clumsy, painted carriage, drawn tandem by two 
 heavy grey horses richly harnessed, blocked the 
 entire road. 
 
 Brought to a walk, Gaspard appealed to his 
 captors. They refused to hear him. He was pushed 
 roughly forward, his persecutors talking among 
 themselves and laughing with a grim humour. 
 ' It's the duchess ! ' said one. ' Aye, in her new 
 coach,' said another. 
 
 Gaspard's heart beat with hope. A duchess ! A 
 great lady ! She would set him free if he could but 
 get to her. As they endeavoured to thrust him past 
 the standing coach, which was somewhat like a 
 modern gipsy van, a lady dressed in the very height
 
 108 THE MINIATURE 
 
 of fashion started from the padded and rose-coloured 
 interior, came to the central window, and leaned 
 out. A reek of perfume issued with her into the 
 street. 
 
 She was so painted and patched that she re- 
 sembled a china doll. It seemed every moment that 
 with any violent movement her porcelain face must 
 crack, her carmine lips run, her pencilled eyebrows 
 chip into powder. The nose was snubbed and 
 insolent, the eyes narrow and mischievous, the 
 mouth petulant and sensual. She leaned out of the 
 window, smiling like a mask, and asked the cause 
 of Gaspard's captivity. The left corner of her mouth 
 had a little sore, and she held her fingers at the lips, 
 fretting it as she spoke. 
 
 Two or three of the men speaking together said 
 that Gaspard had come to the town with the 
 pilgrims and that he had stolen the King's horse. 
 
 ' But how nice ! ' exclaimed the lady, smiling. 
 She drawled and her accent was horrible to 
 Gaspard's ears, used to the pure French of Touraine. 
 
 However, he hid his feelings, looked at her with 
 entreaty, and implored her to hear the truth. ' I 
 stopped a rogue from robbing these people,' said he ; 
 ' to cover his guilt the rascal accused me of a crime ; 
 and then these fools set about me. But I am no 
 horse thief, madam. I am a surgeon, a surgeon to 
 the Count of Touraine ; there are those in the town 
 can prove it.'
 
 THE MINIATURE 109 
 
 ' But how amusing ! ' smiled the lady, fingering 
 her sore lip. 
 
 ' He's a thief, duchess, depend on't, he's a thief,' 
 cried his captors. ' The two of them were fighting 
 like cat and dog in the gutters.' 
 
 ' Duchess,' cried the desperate Gaspard, a sudden 
 inspiration in his heart, ' you are as beautiful as 
 Paradise and know how loveliness is worshipped. 
 Let these fellows unhand me that I may show you 
 the face of her whom I adore ; by that face, by the 
 heart of her whom I love, I will appeal to you for 
 your protection. Queen of love, hear me. The 
 Count, my master, will thank you. He honours 
 me. Of your bounty, most beautiful and most 
 gracious ' 
 
 ' Let me see the face,' said the duchess, extending 
 one of her hands. ' But how romantic ! ' 
 
 Gaspard fished in his doublet and produced the 
 miniature. ' Let her lesser beauty,' said the rogue 
 softly, ' appeal to your grace's incomparable loveli- 
 ness.' 
 
 The duchess smirked upon him, examined the 
 miniature, and pursed her lips. ' A plain face, a 
 stupid plain face,' she drawled contemptuously, 
 ' but the picture is cleverly done ; it has some skill 
 in the colouring.' She tossed the precious miniature 
 on to the seat of the coach, and looking up again, 
 demanded, ' And where did you steal it ? ' 
 
 Gaspard turned white as death.
 
 110 THE MINIATURE 
 
 ' My picture ! ' he cried. ' Give me my picture ! ' 
 
 ' I will keep it for you,' she said in her lazy drawl, 
 * till you get back from Jerusalem ! ' 
 
 ' Or the water ! ' said one of the men. 
 
 The crowd laughed and the duchess beamed upon 
 them. 
 
 ' You will leave me in the hands of these men ? ' 
 gasped Gaspard. Then his rage broke out. He 
 cared not what became of him. He cursed the town, 
 charged the duchess with a thousand crimes, swore 
 to have justice, mentioned the King's name with a 
 wild freedom, and ended up by demanding once 
 more his picture. 
 
 ' Do you swim, pilgrim ? ' asked the duchess, 
 fingering her tiresome sore. 
 
 ' Swim ! ' echoed Gaspard. 
 
 ' Oh, I am sure you do ! ' She called to her coach- 
 man to proceed, and as she sat back in the carriage 
 she said wearily, ' To the river with this frothing 
 dog.' 
 
 Gaspard was tighter seized and shot forward up 
 the hill.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 FELIX DISAPPEARS 
 
 IjlEELINGS of rage and mortification did not 
 -JL burn so furiously in Gaspard's breast as to 
 smother his bitterness of self-reproach. He blamed 
 himself unsparingly as the blood danced in his eyes 
 and ears. Fool to have interfered between Black- 
 beard the rogue and these clowns who did not 
 know an honest man when they saw one ! Yes, 
 fool, a hundred times fool ; but ah ! monster and 
 villain and unpardonable sinner to have brandished 
 his love for Isabel in the face of that painted minx 
 in her gaudy coach ! That was where the shoe 
 pinched sharpest. 
 
 Why did he yield to these absurd spasms of the 
 brain ? Why did his reason allow his life to be 
 carried away on these waves of emotion ? 
 
 Impulse, he told himself bitterly, had set him on 
 this folly of crusading with mad children ; impulse 
 had made him attack a cunning rogue in the street ; 
 impulse had made him appeal to one who, any fool 
 might have seen, was as false as she was empty, as 
 vile as she was vain. 
 
 ill
 
 112 FELIX DISAPPEARS 
 
 And now his chance in the world was gone, his 
 life was to suffer a frightful hazard, and Isabel's 
 miniature had vanished for ever ! 
 
 Bitterly, on his violent way to the bridge, did 
 Gaspard, surgeon to the Count of Touraine and man 
 of passionless science, upbraid himself. 
 
 But his progress and his reflections were both 
 suddenly interrupted. A main road crossed the lane 
 through which he was being thus brutally projected, 
 and, by a merciful providence, just before his 
 captors reached this four-cross-ways, the people and 
 the pilgrims, returning from the square and Stephen's 
 oratory, passed like a great flood across the road 
 and made an impassable barricade between Gaspard 
 and the bridge. 
 
 Many noticed him ; he was raked by hundreds of 
 half-curious eyes ; but no one questioned, no one 
 interfered. He stood there like a guilty felon, held 
 on either side by the collar, gripped by the arms, 
 hands at his girdle, fists in his back, and one man in 
 front (he who had been worse drenched by the pail) 
 watching him like a bloodhound. 
 
 An idea flashed into his mind. 
 
 ' If you will not listen to reason ' he began. 
 
 ' Hold your peace ! ' growled the man in 
 front. 
 
 ' Will money buy you ? ' Gaspard asked. ' I'll 
 give a gold piece to be rid of you.' 
 
 ' Silence, I say ! ' threatened the Bloodhound.
 
 FELIX DISAPPEARS 113 
 
 The men at his back were whispering. Gaspard 
 caught the words, ' But we'll look in his belt, never- 
 theless, before he goes over.' 'Aye,' said another; 
 4 we're entitled to thieves' takings ! ' 
 
 He set his teeth and waited. The crowd passed 
 slowly, thickly, indifferently. 
 
 Then his fiery blood got the better of him. What ! 
 to stand ignominiously in the public streets without 
 one single protest of innocence ! No ; he would 
 show them the manner of man they had dared to lay 
 their dirty hands upon ! 
 
 In a second the splendid youth was like a mad- 
 man. He let fly with his right foot, plunged 
 violently to the left, hurled his whole body forward, 
 and at the next minute was pressing backward, 
 almost free, with his body couched, his head curled 
 under him, his arm forcing to left and right, every 
 muscle in his youthful frame strained to the 
 utmost. 
 
 It was a great effort, but the tussle ended and 
 Gaspard was still a prisoner. 
 
 The angry and gasping men got a firmer grip of 
 him ; Bloodhound came closer and hit him a 
 stinging blow in the mouth. The multitude crossing 
 the road had scarcely turned their heads to regard 
 the hopeless struggle. 
 
 Alas, but a few hours ago the words were said to 
 Gaspard, ' The world is at your feet ' yes, and said 
 to him by as powerful a man, next to the King, as 
 i
 
 114 FELIX DISAPPEARS 
 
 any in France. And now ! Now he stood the 
 prisoner of loathsome men, bleeding, disordered, 
 passionate, helpless, ruined ! 
 
 He looked about him for a wild moment, haggard, 
 agonised, and despairing. 
 
 The crowd went by, hardly regarding him. 
 
 To hide the tears scalding in his eyes, to fight the 
 sobs in his throat, to shut his eyes from the ignominy 
 and burning shame of his position, Gaspard bowed 
 his head and longed that the end might come. To 
 get to the bridge, to be free of these hands gripping 
 him so cruelly, to have the water all about him and 
 a shore within reach of him this was his only 
 longing. 
 
 The crowd went by speaking of Stephen. Was it 
 true ? Had these miracles really occurred ? Was it 
 possible that children could overcome the Saracens ? 
 The lad had spoken well. He was like a veritable 
 prophet. God had certainly called him. But who 
 would care to set his child on this crusade ? After 
 all . . . 
 
 Gaspard heard the floating words as he fought 
 with the hot tears of his shame. 
 ^Of a sudden his name was called. He lifted his 
 
 Si 
 
 head, the blood running down his chin, and looked 
 wildly, hopefully about him. Falaise was thrusting 
 through the crowd to come to him fear, agony, 
 indignation, love in her eyes and with her was a 
 heavy-shouldered, fat-faced priest, a giant of a man,
 
 FELIX DISAPPEARS 115 
 
 who held her hand and kept close to her in a way 
 that was not pleasant to see. 
 
 Even in that moment of hope Gaspard's brows 
 darkened on the priest, and he looked reproachfully 
 at his sister. 
 
 ' Gaspard ! ' she cried, ' what has befallen you ? ' 
 
 The priest did not ask questions. ' Unhand him, 
 you dirty churls ! ' cried this giant of the black robe. 
 ' Unhand an honest youth or I'll set a thousand of 
 our pilgrims on you.' And with the words he laid 
 immense and hairy hands on the shoulders of one of 
 the rogues, twitched him off, and slung him against 
 the opposite wall. 
 
 The others raised angry voices. ' Hold, Father ; 
 the duchess has condemned him ; the duchess has 
 bid us throw the thief in the river.' 
 
 ' Duchess ! ' bawled the huge priest. ' Duchess ! ' 
 And as he slung another of Gaspard's captives 
 across the road, he said with indignation and with 
 scorn, ' Who dares say duchess when Holy Church 
 commands ? ' 
 
 ' He is no thief ! ' cried Falaise, facing Bloodhound 
 with anger in her eyes. ' How dare you call my 
 brother a thief ! ' She looked as if she would 
 scratch his eyes out, and Bloodhound turned on a 
 sulking heel, and joined his mates now slinking 
 away on the other side. 
 
 In a minute Gaspard stood free, saved by Falaise. 
 
 He was in the midst of telling his story when he
 
 116 FELIX DISAPPEARS 
 
 stopped himself suddenly. ' Great Heaven,' he 
 exclaimed, ' the child at the inn ! ' 
 
 ' Where mean you ? What child ? ' cried the 
 priest, catching hold of his arm as he turned to go. 
 
 Gaspard told them of Felix left at the inn. 
 
 ' Well, the boy has had tune to stuff himself,' 
 laughed the priest. ' What, are you so late from 
 boyhood and think he will complain of that ! Hold 
 a minute. If we let you go those rogues will attack 
 you again. It is necessary that we go with you.' 
 
 So they went together, and all the way Gaspard 
 was troubled by the big priest's familiarity with 
 Falaise, and hated him in his heart for a hypocrite 
 and a rogue. 
 
 At the inn they found the landlord standing at his 
 door. 
 
 ' Ah ! so you've come at last,' said this worthy, 
 scowling on Gaspard and glancing suspiciously at 
 the priest. ' Well, that boy of yours has eaten like a 
 soldier and gone off without paying his bill, like a 
 true pilgrim.' 
 
 ' Gone ! ' said Gaspard. 
 
 ' Aye, gone without paying.' 
 
 The priest laughed. ' We shall find him with the 
 pilgrims,' he said. ' For us, it is wise to eat before 
 we start. Let us to the table. The oratory of this 
 Stephen has fed my soul and starved my body.' 
 
 Gaspard went anxiously to the stable. Crusader, 
 to his great relief, was still there. He went to the
 
 FELIX DISAPPEARS 117 
 
 corner of the street. There was no sign of Felix. He 
 waited for a few moments and then returned to 
 the inn. 
 
 ' Come ! ' cried the priest, who held a goblet in 
 one hand and a flagon in the other. He laughed, 
 smacking his fat lips, and blinking his small eyes. 
 The great round of his face shone with heat and was 
 beaded with perspiration. He had not shaved that 
 day and the whole great jowl was blue and prickly 
 with the stubble of his beard. 
 
 During the meal he said to Gaspard : ' So you 
 are not a believer, my friend. You follow the 
 Crusade rather than go with it. This I learn from 
 the white lily at my side, your exquisite sister. 
 Well, I do not judge you. For myself, I neither 
 believe nor disbelieve. I wait for God to settle that 
 little matter. If the sea divides for us, I shall make 
 Heaven a present of my faith ; if not, well, I shall go 
 back to my town and say mass like the others. 
 For the present, I reckon that this Stephen of 
 Cloyes has the balance in his favour. Look you, he 
 has healed the sick ; he has the gift of tongues ; and 
 children follow him. Such things are not natural. 
 Either God is with him or Satan is making use of 
 him. We must suspend judgment. Time will decide.' 
 
 ' I should like to talk to him/ said Gaspard 
 quietly. 
 
 ' That you will find difficult,' quoth the priest, 
 laughing. ' At the start he was humble, and walked
 
 118 FELIX DISAPPEARS 
 
 like the rest of us, a true shepherd. But now, my 
 friend, he rides in a cart ; he wears a robe of honour ; 
 he has a guard all about him. It is like approaching 
 a king to get near him.' 
 
 Gaspard asked Falaise if she or Hildebert had 
 spoken to Stephen. She shook her head quickly. 
 ' Oh no ! ' she said ; ' Hildebert tried the first day, 
 but he could not reach him.' 
 
 The priest, who was eating voraciously, told 
 Gaspard to postpone any questions he had framed 
 for Stephen's answering till they got to Jerusalem. 
 
 When they had finished their meal, Gaspard paid 
 the bill and went to the stable for his horse. He 
 found three or four men standing there, regarding 
 Crusader with admiration. These men turned at 
 his approach and stared at him curiously, presently 
 whispering among themselves. 
 
 He saddled and bridled Crusader, led him from 
 the stable, and mounted in the yard. One of the 
 men approached him. 
 
 ' That's a fine horse,' he said quietly. 
 
 ' You speak truth,' answered Gaspard shortly. 
 
 ' I expect there's a history attaching to that 
 horse,' continued the man. 
 
 ' There is,' said Gaspard, riding away. Over his 
 shoulder, he added, ' He was born on such a day, 
 broken in such a year, and now he carries his master 
 out of this scurvy town into fresh air and honest 
 country.'
 
 FELIX DISAPPEARS 119 
 
 The man came to the yard entry and shouted, 
 ' When he's dead let me know and I'll send you his 
 epitaph.' 
 
 Gaspard rode on, and overtook the priest and 
 Falaise. 
 
 ' That's a fine horse,' exclaimed the priest, 
 genuinely amazed. 
 
 Gaspard laughed. ' Never,' said he, ' did a 
 beast's praise make his master more uneasy.' He 
 thought of Isabel's saying, The fall is not far off. 
 ' It seems to me,' he went on, ' that this horse is 
 more likely to carry me into mischief than bring me 
 safely home.' 
 
 ' It's a fine horse,' said the priest thoughtfully. 
 
 They turned a corner, and Gaspard saw a hatless 
 man hurrying away into the distance whose clothes 
 were damp, stained, and disarranged. 
 
 It was Blackboard.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 STEPHEN'S FAVOURITE DISCIPLE 
 
 HILDEBERT came running to greet them as 
 they joined the procession. 
 
 ' What do you think ? ' he cried eagerly. ' I have 
 spoken to Stephen ! He was surrounded by people, 
 but he saw me looking at him, and he called me to 
 his side, and walked away with me. I was alone 
 with him ! He says I am to travel with him some- 
 times in the cart. He says he likes me and will have 
 me for his favourite disciple ! ' 
 
 Falaise glanced doubtfully up at Gaspard on the 
 horse. Gaspard's face was like a rock. 
 
 The priest laughed and rubbed his great hands. 
 * Come, then, you shall tell us what he said. A good 
 gossip will help pass the time. How did he speak ? 
 Said he anything about the sea dividing ? Tell us 
 your story, little angel.' 
 
 Hildebert was so excited that his words tumbled 
 out of his mouth in an almost breathless enthusiasm. 
 ' He did not talk about himself at all ; he never said 
 a word about what he has seen or what he can do ; 
 
 120
 
 STEPHEN'S FAVOURITE DISCIPLE 121 
 
 he made me tell him all about myself, and asked me 
 whether I believed in him, and if I really thought 
 God would give us Holy Land.' 
 
 ' And you answered ? ' said the priest. 
 
 ' Oh, I told him I believed with all my heart ! ' 
 cried Hildebert. ' I told him that I would follow to 
 the end ; and I said that I had always longed for 
 something wonderful and glorious like this to 
 happen so that wicked men might know the Will of 
 God.' 
 
 ' And that pleased him, eh ? ' 
 
 ' He put his hand on my shoulder, and said, / love 
 you, little brother ; and you shall be my favourite 
 disciple. So I snatched his hand off my shoulder, 
 and lifted it to my lips, and kissed it, and said I 
 would die for him. And he smiled so sweetly on me, 
 and he said very sadly, Little brother, only children 
 can understand the things of God.' 
 
 ' Ha ! ' cried the priest, whose face was grave and 
 earnest ; ' said he that to you, did he ? Well, there 
 is a warrant for it. Of such is the Kingdom of 
 Heaven. Yes. Yes. Well, we must wait. 'Tis a 
 great business. We shall see. A long road, but 
 there's an end to it. Only children, said he ? Yes, 
 that's the Scripture. I think this boy must have 
 the Spirit of God upon him.' 
 
 Gaspard, who was looking here and there for 
 Felix, slipped off his horse and persuaded Falaise to 
 ride. The priest lifted her into the saddle, all the
 
 122 STEPHEN'S FAVOURITE DISCIPLE 
 
 gravity disappearing from his face as he set her 
 there. He laughed into her eyes, squeezed her hand, 
 and called her the lily of the march. 
 
 Then he turned to Gaspard. ' What think you 
 of your brother's tale ? ' he asked in a lower 
 voice, as though he would discuss the matter 
 secretly. 
 
 ' It is plain enough/ replied Gaspard. 
 
 'Is it ? ' exclaimed the priest. ' Well, perhaps 
 you are right. The Scriptures say that a man must 
 be born again. St. Paul has it that the natural 
 man cannot understand the things of God. Our 
 Blessed Lord, as all good Christians know, took 
 a little child and set him in the midst of His 
 disciples ' 
 
 ' I mean something else,' said Gaspard. 
 
 ' Ha ! I forgot. Yes. You don't believe. Well, 
 what do you think of this talk with Stephen ? How 
 is it plain enough, as you say ? ' 
 
 Gaspard frowned. ' It seems to me,' he said, 
 rather impatiently, ' that this shepherd boy from 
 Cloyes has begun to be doubtful of himself and his 
 mission.' 
 
 ' What ! ' cried the priest, almost stopping. 
 
 Gaspard continued, without altering his pace. 
 'As I see it, the matter is in this fashion. Surrounded 
 by flatterers and absurdity, the Mystic, who has just 
 begun to doubt, sees my little brother gaping at him 
 with honest love and unaffected worship. He calls
 
 STEPHEN'S FAVOURITE DISCIPLE 123 
 
 him aside. He asks what Hildebert thinks about 
 him. When he gets the full and unquestioning 
 faith of a little child he is relieved and feels happier. 
 He says that Hildebert is to be his favourite 
 disciple. Don't you see why ? He needs innocence 
 and simplicity to buttress his faith. I think he 
 is afraid of the ball he has set rolling. He did 
 not anticipate either so great a ball or so far a 
 journey.' 
 
 The priest was exceedingly grave. ' Perhaps ; yes, 
 perhaps,' he said slowly, speaking in a low voice. 
 He kept his eyes on the ground and walked with his 
 head bent. ' What you say has the sound of truth 
 in it. Suppose he has been deluded ! And all these 
 children, thirty thousand of them, following in vain ! 
 What calamity ! And yet we have Scripture warrant 
 for his words. Only little children can understand 
 the things of God. It is necessary to have the heart 
 of a little child. Yes. The Scripture says so. 
 Become as little children. You are nearly a man, and 
 I am in the midst of my age ; you and I are full of 
 doubts, with hearts hardened by the world and eyes 
 blinded by our own conceits. Suppose we are 
 wrong ! Suppose Hildebert is right ! My friend, 
 look at his face ! Is it not the countenance of an 
 angel ? ' 
 
 Gaspard was conscious of despair. This mad 
 pilgrimage, he felt sure, would crawl slowly forward 
 all the way to the sea ; and at the sea Hildebert
 
 124 STEPHEN'S FAVOURITE DISCIPLE 
 
 would be the very last among that wailing host of 
 broken-hearted and disillusioned children to turn 
 back. Alas ! he had brought certain ruin on him- 
 self. It was hopeless to expect that the Count would 
 forgive him. Here he was, in the midst of fanatics 
 and thieves, marching away from fortune and love, 
 his face towards ruin. 
 
 An idea occurred to him. 
 
 ' Hildebert ! ' he exclaimed suddenly, going to 
 the boy's side ; ' will you take me with you to the 
 head of the procession and get me a word with 
 Stephen ? ' 
 
 Hildebert glanced up at him quickly and reproach- 
 fully. ' But, Gaspard,' he said sadly, ' you don't 
 believe ! ' 
 
 ' I would ask Stephen a question.' 
 
 ' But he said to me that the questions of people 
 harden his heart. He does not like people who 
 ask this and that. He wants people to believe 
 in God.' 
 
 ' Nevertheless, take me to his side.' 
 
 ' I cannot.' 
 
 ' Come, it is a small matter.' 
 
 ' No, it is a great matter, Gaspard ! Don't you 
 see, Stephen wants to be alone with God. He told 
 me the people press about him and talk to him all 
 day, so that he can never be quiet with his 
 own thoughts. At Cloyes he could think about 
 God from sunrise to sunset, and he says it
 
 STEPHEN'S FAVOURITE DISCIPLE 125 
 
 was beautiful and easy then to feel God close 
 to him.' 
 
 ' Well, he can spare me five minutes.' 
 
 ' I will not ask him for them.' 
 
 ' I have given up much for you ! ' 
 
 * That is nothing, Gaspard. You must give up all 
 for God. Oh, I wish you believed ! Stephen says 
 that only those of us who have become as little 
 children will conquer the Saracens. The others will 
 die. It is so beautiful to give your whole heart to 
 God ; to forget all about yourself ; to think always 
 about heaven and its bright angels ; to long and 
 long and long for the Presence of God.' 
 
 The child stole a glance at his brother's face and 
 he quickly turned his head, edging a little away 
 from Gaspard. ' Come ! ' he cried to those on the 
 other side, ' let us sing It is God's Will.' And the 
 next moment the afternoon air was filled with the 
 voices of children. 
 
 Darkness descended on the heart of Gaspard. 
 He walked away from Hildebert, left the priest in 
 charge of Falaise and the horse, glanced behind him 
 for a possible sight of the missing Felix, and 
 then strode on ahead to get a nearer view of 
 Stephen. 
 
 ' If I can force him into a corner,' he said bitterly ; 
 ' if I can bring him face to face with his own doubt ; 
 ah, then I will drive him to turn my brother back. 
 There is still a hope. If I could get home in
 
 126 STEPHEN'S FAVOURITE DISCIPLE 
 
 two days, in three days, perhaps even in four 
 days, the Count might forgive me. And then, 
 Isabel ! ' 
 
 He thought of the lost miniature and became 
 sad.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 THE PURPLE ROBE 
 
 IT was a matter of many minutes to reach the head 
 of the procession. 
 
 As he went along Gaspard took notice of the 
 people he passed and the expression of their various 
 faces. The men seemed to him thoughtful and 
 anxious ; the children, for the most part, feverish 
 and wretchedly fatigued. Among the youths of his 
 own age there were many noble faces stern with 
 the energy of religious fervour. He was struck 
 by the strength and power of these young men, 
 the look of concentrated purpose in their eyes, the 
 appearance of unyielding resolution in their lips and 
 chins. 
 
 It was a dust-stained pageant. Happiness was no- 
 where discernible. Like an army at the end of a 
 long march, the host moved slowly, wearily, and 
 rather silently forward. A few of the children were 
 still singing behind him, but their voices weakened, 
 and grew gradually faint. Some of the older men 
 were talking together, but not with animation. 
 The horses and mules sweated in the burning 
 
 127
 
 128 THE PURPLE ROBE 
 
 sun. The dust rose like a thick smoke. A cloud 
 of flies buzzed above the heads of the moving 
 multitude. 
 
 There was a bodyguard of priests and monks 
 surrounding the cart in which Stephen travelled. 
 These men were more talkative than the rest. They 
 argued among themselves hi loud voices, using many 
 gestures and constantly changing places as they went 
 forward. A few of them had their hands on the side 
 of Stephen's cart and walked more or less silently, 
 only speaking to those at their elbow, and that 
 briefly, as though answering questions with " Yes " 
 or "No." The rest made the air loud with their 
 incessant loquacity. 
 
 Gaspard saw all this in a brief moment. His gaze 
 went quickly to the cloaked figure lying across the 
 floor of the cart, with the back resting against one of 
 the sides. 
 
 It was not easy to see the face of Stephen because 
 of the crowds surrounding the cart ; but by peering 
 here and there, standing tiptoe now, and now 
 stooping the knees to glance between a row of bodies, 
 Gaspard at last obtained a definite impression of the 
 hero. 
 
 He was a boy of fourteen, swarthy and ^dark- 
 haired, with swollen bags under the dark eyes, 
 and a brooding petulance in the full lips. The 
 forehead was low but broad, with thick eyebrows 
 depressed to the very lids of the eyes. The ears
 
 THE PURPLE ROBE 129 
 
 were small ; the nose coarse and abrupt ; the chin 
 firm ; the neck full, strong, and powerful. 
 
 Gaspard took notice of the purple cloak worn by 
 this new saint of the Church, and observed a massive 
 ring on one of his brown fingers. 
 
 He was still peering for a closer study of Stephen 
 when a monk touched his arm. 
 
 ' What do you seek ? ' asked this monk. 
 
 ' A talk with the shepherd boy from Cloyes,' 
 replied Gaspard. 
 
 ' That is impossible, my brother.' 
 
 ' Is he so mighty, then ? ' 
 
 ' Who is mightier than the Chosen of God ? ' 
 
 ' Yet our Lord talked with publicans and sinners ! ' 
 
 ' True, but they came to Him with broken 
 hearts.' 
 
 ' Not aU, I think.' 
 
 ' Or thirsting for salvation.' 
 
 ' Well, I come thirsting.' 
 
 ' Do you ? ' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 ' For what ? ' 
 
 ' For Truth.' 
 
 The monk was young and his countenance was 
 beautiful, witH the grace of refinement. His eyes, 
 although full of gentleness and the most quiet 
 serenity, pierced to the very soul of Gaspard. 
 ' Truth,' said he, ' is to be had of God. He has 
 already declared it. Christ Jesus, my brother, is
 
 130 THE PURPLE ROBE 
 
 the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Ask God, and He 
 will make it clear to you.' 
 
 Gaspard's brows darkened. ' But I would hear 
 from the lips of Stephen himself the truth of this 
 crusade this crusade of little children to Holy 
 Land ! ' 
 
 ' Did you hear him preach at the last town ? ' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' Wait, then, till the next ; I will lead you where 
 you shall hear him plainly.' 
 
 ' Then he is too fine to answer a question I would 
 put to him ? ' 
 
 ' No, my brother ; but you are too presumptuous 
 in seeking to ask it.' 
 
 ' How so ? ' 
 
 ' When God has answered your prayer for Truth 
 you will understand.' 
 
 Gaspard reflected for a moment. Then he said : 
 ' I have come hither to look after a brother of mine, 
 a little brother who is weak and delicate, who is like 
 to die on the road before ever we come to the sea. 
 His mother loves him, and has sent me to take care 
 of the young child. Now, brother, I would ask this 
 Stephen of Cloyes whether he is very sure that the 
 sea will divide for him, whether he is very sure 
 that it is God's Will children should desert father 
 and mother and die on the road. That is my 
 question. And I think if I came face to face with 
 him, if I forced his eyes to look straight into the
 
 THE PURPLE ROBE 131 
 
 eyes of honest doubt, I could persuade him to let 
 my brother go. And that, I think, would be as 
 good a work as he has yet done or is like to do, for 
 my mother is one who serves God and loves this 
 little son with all her heart.' 
 
 The monk took Gaspard aside. ' Do you doubt 
 the Hand of God ? ' he asked quietly. ' Why, 
 brother, see how visibly it moves across this land of 
 France ! Look backward on this host of innocence 
 and faith. It is the Hand of God ! Think you a 
 shepherd boy could do this thing ? Think you a 
 child could set so vast a thing afoot ? Consider 
 what it means, and what it promises. Here through 
 the land of this our country moves a great army of 
 little children, children who love games and play, 
 to whom it is natural that life should seem a merry 
 pastime ; and they are marching footsore, weary, 
 hungry, thirsty, to face the armies of the Moslem ! 
 How came this miracle, except from Heaven ? 
 And see further what it promises. Sinful is the 
 world, the whole of Christendom diseased with 
 evil and iniquity, the very Church of God rotten 
 with unrighteousness. What can save mankind ? 
 Are we not like the Israelites, given to false gods 
 and abandoned to uncleanness ? Aye, we are worse 
 than them. For unto us has shone the Perfect Light, 
 and in our very midst has been lifted up the Cross 
 of Christ. What, then, can save us ? A miracle ! 
 Yes, and only a miracle. Brother, behold the
 
 132 THE PURPLE ROBE 
 
 miracle ! These children will advance to Holy 
 Land between the parted waves of ocean ; at sight 
 of them the Saracens will fall down and worship 
 God ; the Holy Father will march from Rome to 
 Jerusalem ; from thence the Church of Christ will 
 rule the whole world ; and then, all the nations 
 of the earth confronted by this miracle of the 
 children will acknowledge God to be the Lord. 
 Brother, this is the WiU of God.' 
 
 Gaspard said : ' And if the sea does not divide ? ' 
 
 ' I will answer that question when God denies 
 Himself.' 
 
 ' I tell you,' said Gaspard angrily, ' that the sea 
 will not divide. I tell you that everyone here is 
 deceived. You dream. You are deluded. At the 
 sea you will sit down and curse God, and God will 
 judge you for the murderers of little children. 
 What say the Scriptures about the millstone ? 
 I advise you, look out for that millstone of God ! 
 It will grind you to powder. I had rather commit 
 all the sins that Moses banned than lead one little 
 child to disenchantment and despair.' 
 
 The monk laid a kindly hand on his arm. ' So 
 spoke the Israelites hi the wilderness, my brother ; 
 but the Promised Land was reached.' 
 
 ' I see it is in vain ! ' cried Gaspard. ' You 
 are like men in sleep. You are in the midst of a 
 dream, and what is real you cannot understand. 
 I see how it is. Only the sea will awake you.'
 
 THE PURPLE ROBE 133 
 
 ' You are hot and fierce,' replied the monk gently. 
 ' In such a mood it is not possible to comprehend 
 the Will of God. Try and humble yourself, my 
 brother ; bow your spirit to the dust and ask the 
 Everlasting God to let the light of His truth pene- 
 trate and disperse the darkness of your soul.' 
 
 Gaspard uttered an exclamation of impatient 
 disgust. ' You dream ! you dream ! ' he cried 
 angrily. ' Such a God is fit only for the heathen 
 whom you despise. He has given us reason. We 
 are men. He means us to think, to act, to work.' 
 He looked towards Stephen in the cart. ' That 
 boy ! ' said he. ' Do you know what he is ? The 
 Chosen of God, say you ? No. I will tell you. The 
 truthfis simple. He is a madman.' 
 
 ' And you,' said the monk, ' are blind ! ' 
 
 With a gesture half of resignation and half of 
 contempt, Gaspard stopped on the road, and let the 
 monk go on beside the cart. 
 
 That night they reached no town, and bivouacked 
 under the stars on the edge of a dark forest. Gaspard 
 gave the fat priest a notion of his suspicions con- 
 cerning Blackboard, and it was agreed between 
 them to share a watch over Crusader. 
 
 Falaise and Hildebert slept side by side under the 
 branches of an oak, their heads resting on a pillow of 
 moss J Not far from them, Crusader was hobbled to a 
 long rope, one end of which first Gaspard and then 
 the fat priest held by the hand. On every side of
 
 134 THE PURPLE ROBE 
 
 them children lay stretched upon the ground, 
 little weary children whose deep breathing made a 
 strange music through the forest. Their white or 
 flushed faces seen by starlight, the curls clustering 
 at the side, the lashes resting on the cheeks, the 
 lips slightly parted, made a deep impression on the 
 soul of Gaspard. He thought of Stephen's purple 
 robe, and set his teeth. 
 
 ' God's millstone ! ' he said to himself. ' Would 
 it might fall to-night ! ' 
 
 And as he watched the air was peaceful with the 
 breathing of the children and fearful with the howling 
 of wolves.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION 
 
 THE dawn broke grey and cold, the whole east 
 banked with sullen clouds, a wind from that 
 quarter ominously sounding a shrill trumpet of 
 menace and dislike. 
 
 ' Now there is a chance for this Stephen to prove 
 his power ! ' said Gaspard grimly. 
 
 ' What mean you ? ' asked the priest, who was 
 laughing with Falaise. 
 
 Hildebert was on his knees, his hands clasped in 
 front of the cross on his breast, his eyes raised to 
 heaven. 
 
 ' Ram is not far ; let him disperse it,' said 
 Gaspard. 
 
 ' Rain ! ' cried the priest, turning about to scan 
 the sky. ' What a tragedy ! Yes. On my soul, 
 it looks like it. Ram ! That will be frightful.' 
 
 ' And let him feed these hungry children ! ' said 
 Gaspard bitterly. ' The sparrows of the air have 
 their breakfast ; shall not the lambs of God be fed 
 also ? ' 
 
 135
 
 136 THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION 
 
 The priest eyed him narrowly. ' You do not 
 believe ? You think it will come to nothing ? ' 
 
 ' I am waiting,' said Gaspard, ' not for the miracle, 
 but for the millstone.' 
 
 They set out. A messenger came to fetch Hilde- 
 bert, and he ran joyfully forward to be with 
 Stephen. 
 
 Before they were in sight of a village the first 
 spots of rain fell here and there, thrown forward 
 by the wind out of a sky as black as ink. Gaspard 
 looked round, and then turned to Falaise, who was 
 riding Crusader. 
 
 ' You have no cloak ? ' he asked. 
 
 She shook her head. ' No. And I feel cold. I 
 think I would rather walk.' 
 
 The priest came to her side. ' Jump, little lily. 
 You shall walk beside me, and I will shield you from 
 the rain.' 
 
 There were several children scarce able to drag one 
 foot after another. Gaspard chose three of them 
 and set them one behind the other on Crusader's 
 saddle. He thought, with the keenest remorse, of 
 little Felix left behind in the town, perhaps stolen by 
 evil people. 
 
 The raindrops increased in number and in size. 
 Children could be seen pulling their scapulars or 
 hoods over their heads. Men riding mules and 
 horses drew their cloaks round them. Those who 
 had blankets unpacked them from the straps and
 
 THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION 137 
 
 wore them over the shoulders. Falaise allowed the 
 priest to lay his great arm about her and hold her 
 close to his side. It grew darker and colder every 
 moment. 
 
 ' How far is it to Jerusalem ? ' children were 
 asking. 
 
 ' Is it just over this hill ? ' 
 
 ' Shall we get there before the ram falls ? ' 
 
 And then, as if heaven had opened all her water- 
 gates at once, down came the black and piercing 
 rain, down at a pursuing slant, sloping in a flood 
 from the cruel east, with a hiss, a roar, and 
 a smoke of steam, driving at the backs of 
 the children, stabbing at them, whipping them 
 forward with all the lashes of the howling 
 wind. 
 
 In a moment the garments of that mighty host 
 were soaked and drenched. The gay colours became 
 dark ; the pretty looseness shrank to the skin of the 
 shivering wearers. Water ran from the brims of 
 hats, the rims of scapulars, the faces and the hands 
 of all the multitude. Horses and mules sent up a 
 steam of mist. The air smelt like a cauldron. 
 The road became a morass. As far as eye could see 
 the country lay flat, melancholy, and damp with 
 gloom. 
 
 Gaspard set his teeth. ' If Stephen doubted 
 yesterday,' he reflected, ' still more shall he doubt 
 to-day. This drench of the heavens should wash
 
 138 THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION 
 
 the mystic out of his soul. Could I but come at 
 him now ! ' 
 
 He looked for Hildebert. The boy was not to be 
 seen. ' Oh, he is with the great Master, the Chosen 
 of God ! ' he told himself angrily. ' Yes, I forgot. 
 Stephen has need of him. Much would I give 
 to see those two sons of faith soaking in a 
 cart ! ' 
 
 The rain continued all the morning. 
 
 Soon after midday a rumour came from the head 
 of the procession that a town was in sight. ' Oh, I 
 am so glad ! ' cried a child, whom Gaspard had 
 lifted on to his shoulder. 
 
 ' You are hungry, little man ? ' 
 
 ' Yes ; but I think it may be Jerusalem.' 
 
 ' No ; Jerusalem lies across the sea.' 
 
 ' But I think this rain is the sea,' answered the 
 child. 
 
 ' No ; it is only a foretaste ! ' said Gaspard grimly. 
 But the sight of human habitations warmed his 
 heart. He was very hungry and his shoulders had 
 long been aching with their load. 
 
 The town proved to be sceptic, almost to a man. 
 The clergy laughed at the half-drowned crusaders 
 as they entered the city, and the few people who 
 had their doors open refused food till money was 
 produced. 
 
 Such a sight, perhaps, was never seen before. The 
 ugly little narrow streets of this town were packed
 
 THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION 139 
 
 with a drenched and hungry mob of children, 
 packed from end to end and from side to side. 
 Doors were shut and locked. Only from the shining 
 roofs and dripping windows did the people look 
 down upon the soaked crusaders. Voices were 
 raised on every hand, men in the street calling for 
 food, the people in the houses shouting their 
 derision. To add to the horror of it, hundreds of 
 the little ones sank upon the wet mud of the road- 
 ways famished and exhausted. The ram continued 
 to fall, but was less violent ; it descended in a 
 drizzle which looked to be interminable. To crown 
 all, thousands of these children burst into loud 
 weeping and rilled the air with their wailing. 
 
 Gaspard left the priest in charge both of Crusader 
 and the boy he had carried on his shoulder. He 
 forced his way to an inn. By a great effort he gained 
 an entrance and bought food for Falaise and Hilde- 
 bert and the children on the horse. But scarcely 
 had he made his appearance in the street than the 
 food was torn out of his hands, and children on the 
 verge of madness began to gnaw at the loaves. He 
 went back to the inn, and by paying a large sum of 
 money obtained the three last loaves and a piece of 
 cooked meat. These things he placed in a small 
 basket, and carrying it in his arms, forced his 
 way through the crowd and reached Crusader in 
 safety. 
 
 But no sooner did he open the basket than a
 
 140 THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION 
 
 hundred hands were stretched forward and the 
 whole air rang with beseeching cries for food. He 
 managed to tear a piece out of one of the loaves and 
 hand it quickly to Falaise ; at the next moment 
 his basket was empty. 
 
 Angry cries began to sound on every side. The 
 thieves and rogues who had followed the Crusade 
 clamoured for action. ' These people,' they said, 
 * are the enemies of God ; let us sack their 
 wicked city and spoil them to the glory of our 
 Lord ! ' 
 
 Certain of the priests also joined in this cry. A 
 monk sprang upon a wall and denounced the town, 
 calling down upon it the judgment of God. Someone 
 on a roof opposite threw a stone which struck him 
 on the head and brought him to the ground bleeding 
 and stunned. The cries of anger on both sides 
 became louder and fiercer. 
 
 Suddenly a shout of panic came from the rear. 
 In an instant furious pressure drove the whole host 
 violently forward. Horses reared upon their hind 
 legs. Mules lashed out with their heels. Children 
 fell and were trampled underfoot. On every side 
 rose screams of terror and alarm, shrieks of agony 
 and fear. Then came the cry, ' Soldiers ! The 
 soldiers are going to kill us ! ' 
 
 Gaspard got upon Crusader's back, stood on the 
 hindquarters, and, steadying himself with a hand laid 
 upon the shoulder of one of the children, looked back-
 
 THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION 141 
 
 ward. At the far end of the town he saw a body of 
 soldiers armed with swords and spears ; they were 
 mercilessly driving the children before them like a 
 flock of sheep. 
 
 It flashed through Gaspard's mind that perhaps 
 this was the millstone of God. Here perhaps was 
 mercy disguised as chastisement. Outside the 
 town, surely Stephen and the priests about him 
 would come to their senses. At any rate, thpusands 
 of children would refuse to go forward. How could 
 they go on ? They were drenched to the skua ; 
 they were ravenous for food ; and the road was 
 like a quagmire. Yes, by a good hap, this disaster 
 might yet prove his salvation. 
 
 He was borne forward in the press. It was like 
 some awful nightmare. Children fell and dis- 
 appeared with a shriek of terror. Nothing could 
 resist the pressure from behind. In a packed 
 density the army of children surged forward between 
 the houses, many with their feet off the ground, 
 some with broken limbs, numbers of them dying 
 and actually dead. Brutal women threw water at 
 them from the windows. Shouts of laughter marked 
 the progress of this murderous stampede. Dogs 
 were in the midst of the children barking and snap- 
 ping at their legs. 
 
 The huge priest kept Falaise in front of him, 
 and with spread arms protected her from being 
 crushed to death. But a dead child, with broken
 
 142 THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION 
 
 ribs, was pinned against his back by the pressure 
 from behind. He was like a stone wall. Gaspard 
 was able to keep his hand on Crusader's bridle, 
 but the good horse was frightened, and plunged 
 now to this side and now to that, crushing children 
 against the houses and treading others under his 
 hoofs. The three children on his back were scream- 
 ing with terror. It was dreadful to hear the 
 treble cry of ' Mother ! ' hi the midst of the 
 clamour. 
 
 ' This is certainly not Jerusalem,' said Gaspard 
 to himself ; ' it is the City of Destruction.' 
 
 At last the open country was reached. 
 
 Picture to yourself the hideous spectacle. Through 
 the narrow gateway of the city spouted a veritable 
 squash of children, bursting between the dark walls 
 and pouring itself in a sluggish flood across the 
 muddy fields. Hundreds emerged from that dreadful 
 sewer only to fall upon the ground, thousands ran 
 screaming forward in a panic of delirium, thousands 
 more spread out to left and right and stood in breath- 
 less groups beside the walls of the city. At one 
 moment a mule came plunging and kicking out of 
 the gates, at the next a horse rearing on its hind legs, 
 with fiery rolling eyes and nostrils rimmed with 
 blood. And in the midst of this confusion one heard 
 the shouts of men, the screams of children, the 
 barking of dogs, and everywhere the hard and 
 furious breathing of an angry multitude.
 
 THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION 143 
 
 Gaspard drew Crusader aside, and stood looking 
 at the awful sight. 
 
 The rain ceased, and a watery sun, labouring its 
 way to the west through sullen skies and banks of 
 thunder-coloured clouds, threw a thin radiance on 
 the scattered host and soaking landscape. The 
 whole scene was one of desolation and despair, 
 mocked by a sun that sought the other side of the 
 world. 
 
 When he had discovered the priest and Falaise, 
 Gaspard gave up his charge of Crusader, and set off 
 to save, if it were possible, some of the dying children 
 strewed upon the ground. He was working in this 
 way till sunset. 
 
 Night had just begun to fall when he bent his 
 steps towards a little crumpled figure stretched 
 upon the damp earth close to the city walls. A 
 couple of famished dogs were beginning to attack 
 the legs of this child as he came up. He drove off 
 the snarling brutes and knelt hastily down at the 
 child's side. 
 
 A cry of joy and agony broke from his lips. 
 
 ' Felix ! ' he called. ' Little Felix, is it you, is it 
 really you ? ' 
 
 The child opened his eyes and stared at Gaspard 
 with a dazed and glassy wonder. 
 
 Quick as lightning Gaspard drew a phial from his 
 doublet, and, supporting the little boy's head, 
 poured part of the contents through his lips. He
 
 144 THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION 
 
 spoke to him consolingly, drew him close to his 
 bosom, and stooping down, kissed the pale forehead 
 that was cold as death. 
 
 After some minutes Felix revived sufficiently 
 to move his arms. He put his hand to his doublet 
 and tried to take something from his breast. It 
 was more than he could do, and his dying eyes made 
 a tragic appeal to Gaspard. 
 
 ' What do you need, little brother ? ' asked 
 Gaspard tenderly, and he placed his hand gently 
 in the boy's doublet, and drew out something thin 
 and square that lay there, warm with his body's 
 heat. 
 
 It was dark, but Gaspard saw at once, and with 
 an unutterable rush of joy and wonder at his heart, 
 what the precious thing was that he held in his 
 hand. 
 
 It was the lost miniature of Isabel. 
 
 * Felix ! ' he cried. ' Felix ! My own dear little 
 Felix ! How did you come by it ? What miracle 
 gave it to you ' 
 
 The child's head fell back towards his arms. 
 Gaspard peered down at the tiny face. The cheeks 
 became like snow, the lips darkened swiftly till they 
 were like dead lilac, the eyes that met the straining 
 gaze of Gaspard, the poor little eyes that had longed 
 so earnestly to behold Jerusalem, were fixed and 
 soulless and dead. 
 
 A spasm of furious anger swept through Gaspard 's
 
 THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION 145 
 
 body. ' Now, by the living God,' he exclaimed, 
 ' I will call this Stephen to account ! ' 
 
 He lifted the dead child in his arms and ran 
 forward through the twilight. 
 
 His eyes were full of tears.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 FACE TO FACE 
 
 ASPARD was never to know how Felix came 
 by the miniature. But it happened in this 
 wise. 
 
 The poor little child was turned out of the inn 
 by the landlord, who hoped Gaspard might never 
 return, so that he could keep the horse for payment 
 of the food he had served to Felix. Cast into the 
 street, Felix stood crying miserably against the 
 wall of the inn, determined to wait there till Gaspard 
 returned. A crowd collected about him. While 
 they questioned the child, the duchess came by in her 
 painted coach, fresh from the scene with Gaspard. 
 She saw the crowd, and inquired what was passing. 
 When she heard the tale she laughed heartily, and 
 bade them lift the little crusader into her coach. 
 ' If he will not pay for his dinner,' she said, ' he shall 
 beguile me with the tale of this Crusade.' 
 
 Unwillingly, the tears still in his eyes, Felix 
 travelled for a league or two in the coach of the 
 duchess. To amuse him, to cure him of his weeping 
 that he might the more intelligently reply to her 
 
 146
 
 FACE TO FACE 147 
 
 questions, she had shown him the miniature, just 
 as Gaspard had shown it to him, as "a pretty 
 picture." At sight of it Felix started, forgot his 
 tears, and asked how she came by it. The duchess 
 laughed and told him the story. ' I must go ! ' 
 cried Felix ; ' you are a wicked woman ; let me 
 go ! ' But she would not permit him to depart. 
 'Tell me about this Crusade,' she said, 'and you 
 shall keep the picture.' So Felix told her, and what 
 is more, preached her such a lovely sermon of 
 innocence and faith that the vain woman could never 
 afterwards rid herself of its memory ; at the end of 
 her life, they say, she came to pray God for His 
 mercy and forgiveness, haunted by that sermon of 
 the child. 
 
 When she had done with the boy she let him get 
 down from the coach, and he ran all the way back 
 to the city. He arrived to find that the pilgrims 
 had departed. He went to the inn, found that 
 Crusader was gone, and set out to follow. He did 
 not overtake the pilgrims at nightfall, and pushed 
 on through the darkness solitary and alone, till he 
 sank exhausted on the ground. Next morning he 
 continued the pursuit. The rain drenched him 
 to the bone ; he was starving with hunger and 
 consumed by thirst ; but still he ran after the 
 pilgrims. He came up with them before the city 
 of destruction was reached. His strength was ex- 
 hausted. He could not get to Gaspard. Staggering
 
 148 FACE TO FACE 
 
 and reeling in the mud, he begged some of the 
 men to carry him ; they refused. He found himself 
 caught into the moving tide and borne forward. 
 Then came the panic, the stampede, and the final 
 outburst on the further side of the city. 
 
 He staggered forward a few paces, spun round, 
 spread his little arms in the gathering darkness, 
 and fell prone against the city walls. 
 
 Gaspard ran through the night with the dead boy 
 in his arms. The pilgrims were sitting or lying on 
 the ground, many of them weeping. The darkness 
 seemed to be thick with multitudinous groups and 
 clumps of stationary humanity. No one was 
 moving save Gaspard, but the sound of voices filled 
 the air. In the distance a dim lantern was burning 
 at a height of three or four feet from the ground. 
 He made his way in that direction. 
 
 Stephen sat in the cart, moody and silent. Hilde- 
 bert was lying at his feet. The bodyguard of 
 priests and monks bivouacked on the ground, talking 
 excitedly. The yellow light of the lantern revealed 
 the mud upon the wheels and sides of the heavy 
 vehicle ; but it threw the brightest of its rays on 
 the cloaked figure of Stephen with the favourite 
 disciple at his feet. 
 
 It did not now enter the calculations of Gaspard 
 to seek Hildebert's release from this wild crusade-
 
 FACE TO FACE 149 
 
 He did not think of his home, of his ambition, of 
 Isabel, of himself. With one thing only was his 
 soul concerned, and that was the dead child in his 
 arms. 
 
 Before any of the priests could prevent him, he 
 had reached the side of the cart and laid the body 
 of Felix close to the hand of Stephen which bore 
 the massive ring. Stephen started violently and 
 withdrew his hand. Hildebert got upon his knees 
 and faced towards Gaspard. Several of the priests 
 rose from the ground and came pressing to the cart. 
 
 ' Look at this child, Stephen of Cloyes ! ' cried 
 Gaspard in a voice that rang with indignation and 
 was deep with woe. ' Yesterday he had health and 
 strength ; he saw with his eyes, he heard with his 
 ears ; where he would go his feet could take him ; 
 what he would take, his hands could reach. Look 
 at him now ! He lived, as you are living at this 
 hour. The heart beat in his breast. The blood ran 
 through his veins. There was light in his eyes, 
 sound on his lips, bloom on his cheeks. He was a 
 living, breathing, moving creature. Look at him 
 now ! Why does he lie so quiet ? Why are the 
 eyes so fixed, the lips so silent, the little hands so 
 still ? He is dead. The life has vanished from him. 
 He is like a stone on the road, like the floor of this 
 cart on which you both lie, the living and the dead. 
 And why is he dead, he who yesterday had life like 
 you ? Shall I speak ? Dare you hear ? Shepherd,
 
 150 FACE TO FACE 
 
 the child is dead, the little life is crushed and broken 
 and killed, because of you ! Look at him, Stephen 
 of Cloyes ! look at your victim ! Look in those 
 eyes that see nothing, and answer me. Was it God's 
 WiU that thus this little life should end ? Was it 
 God's Will that he should hunger and thirst, should 
 stumble and fall, should cry in vain to his mother, 
 should die in the rain and the night ? Who stole 
 him from his mother's arms ? You. Who dragged 
 him on a fruitless march ? You. Who left him 
 breadless when he hungered and waterless when he 
 thirsted ? You. Who brought him through a 
 driving rain to a city that denied him food and rest ? 
 You. Who left him friendless and deserted in the 
 hour of death ? Look on his face. He was like an 
 angel. Look in his eyes. They thought each village 
 was Jerusalem. You called him, and he followed. 
 He stumbled, and you did not hold him. He fell, and 
 you did not lift him up. He died, and your back 
 was turned upon him.' 
 
 Stephen did not utter a word or attempt an inter- 
 ruption. He maintained his position and met the 
 challenge of Gaspard's gaze with a sullen com- 
 posure. Nevertheless the swarthy cheeks were 
 dark with uneasiness and in the frowning eyes was 
 a look deeper than vexation. 
 
 The priests crowded about Gaspard. One of them 
 sharply bade him take the dead child away, others 
 stretched their arms over the cart to lift out the
 
 FACE TO FACE 151 
 
 little corpse. Hildebert, who had listened with a 
 terrible fascination to his brother's invective, 
 started to his feet. 
 
 ' It is glorious,' he cried, with face transfigured, 
 his hand clutched at the little red cross on his breast, 
 ' to die for God ! Yes, that is the glorious end of life 
 to die for God ! Here or in the Holy City, what 
 matters it ? You are sad, Gaspard, because he is 
 dead. But think, think ! He is not sad. No ! he 
 stands in heaven among the shining host, his eyes 
 lifted to Christ, his face glad with the kisses of the 
 angels. And from heaven he will see us march 
 through the sea, and watch us go up against the 
 Saracens, and behold the gates of Jerusalem open to 
 receive us. It is only his body that lies cold and 
 still. His soul is with God. He is happy, he is 
 happy, I know he is happy ! ' 
 
 The priests pressed between Gaspard and the cart. 
 
 ' One word from you, Stephen of Cloyes ! ' he 
 cried in a loud voice. 
 
 The shepherd boy regarded him. 
 
 ' Are you sure, are you quite sure,' cried Gaspard, 
 * that God is with you still ? ' 
 
 The priests forced him back. 
 
 ' Dare you answer that question ? ' cried Gaspard. 
 
 The priests drove him back. 
 
 ' Your answer ! ' cried Gaspard. 
 
 By the light of the lantern he saw that Stephen's 
 brows grew dark.
 
 152 FACE TO FACE 
 
 ' The millstone ! remember the millstone ! ' called 
 Gaspard. 
 
 And then he thrust the priests aside, turned on his 
 heel, and went back through the night to his sister 
 and his horse.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 FALAISE REALLY BELIEVES 
 
 death of Felix made a profound effect upon 
 J- Gaspard. He seemed to see in it the will of 
 an evil destiny. No longer did he think of home or 
 anticipate an immediate end to this madness of a 
 children's crusade. For two days he spoke to no 
 one, leaving the priest to look after Crusader, avoid- 
 ing Hildebert and Falaise, walking always by him- 
 self at some little distance from the procession, his 
 head bent, his eyes fixed upon the ground. 
 
 It was a sandy country through which the 
 pilgrimage was now passing, and from a sky vacant 
 of clouds and vibrating with heat the sun poured its 
 blinding rays upon the unsheltered road that was 
 like an oven door. Many children fell by the way- 
 side and died in all the agonies of thirst. Several 
 merchants, who had ridden thus far in the hope of 
 seeing miracles, turned the heads of their mules and 
 horses, and rode back with different notions of 
 religion. A few of the robbers struck across country 
 to towns and cities on the further side of a forest. 
 
 One day, as Gaspard was walking solitarily and 
 
 153
 
 154 FALAISE REALLY BELIEVES 
 
 sad, the fat priest came to his side and said to him, 
 * I am becoming like you, my son ; my faith is 
 dwindling.' 
 
 Gaspard answered : ' But the thing will go on.' 
 
 The children were singing loudly and excitedly in 
 spite of the great heat. Some of the priests were 
 shouting words of Scripture and calling on God to do 
 great miracles. There was a feeling of madness in 
 the air. 
 
 ' A few days ago my faith was strong enough to 
 keep your sister on the road,' said the priest ; 'but 
 now she has sought comfort and strength in another 
 quarter.' 
 
 Gaspard looked up. 
 
 * I did not think she was so earnest,' continued 
 the priest ; ' I thought she was more of my mind 
 waiting to see what would happen.' 
 
 ' Where is she ? ' asked Gaspard. 
 
 The priest pointed ahead. ' Yonder with a crazy 
 disciple, but one younger than me and more to a 
 girl's liking ! ' 
 
 Gaspard's eyes darkened at the sight they saw. 
 Falaise was almost dancing as she walked along, and 
 one of her hands was clasped by a youth who walked 
 at her side, his head raised, his eyes shining, his lips 
 parted as he shouted the battle-song of the Crusade. 
 
 While Gaspard looked, the youth turned towards 
 Falaise, and she sprang into his arms, laughing, 
 singing, and waving one of her hands in the air.
 
 FALAISE REALLY BELIEVES 155 
 
 The young man kissed her and danced with her in 
 his arms. 
 
 The youth was one of those who had early 
 attracted Gaspard's admiration. Apparently he 
 was some eighteen years of age, tall, well grown, 
 and of a noble countenance. The dignity and 
 strength of the young face, however, were at this 
 moment distorted by the wild and ungoverned 
 passion of his fanaticism. Gaspard's blood ran cold 
 at the sight of him. 
 
 ' What think you of that ? ' asked the priest, with 
 a laugh. ' I think my faith had been stronger if she 
 had fed it on such kisses.' 
 
 ' Oh, peace ! ' cried Gaspard. ' You make me 
 sick ! ' He ground his teeth, and exclaimed bitterly, 
 ' What ! is life nothing but a madness and a folly ? 
 Was it for such an end as this that earth came forth 
 in power and beauty and the whole vast firma- 
 ment of God grew bright with majesty ? Are 
 we like the beasts of the field, we men with our 
 reasons and our souls ? ' He turned suddenly on 
 the priest. ' Go back to your flock, and teach them 
 the law of God. Why do you play the vagabond and 
 gipsy here, envious of a girl's kisses and thinking 
 only of your next dinner ? Have you no purpose in 
 the world ? Are you not charged with a duty ? 
 Read the words of Isaiah. Get the great Paul by 
 heart. Man alive, there is work to do in this world. 
 The wheel of life turns. Mankind is in the making.
 
 156 FALAISE REALLY BELIEVES 
 
 It is heaven or hell for you, for me, for all the human 
 race.' 
 
 * You are eloquent ! ' quoth the priest. 
 
 ' And a fool ! ' said Gaspard, relapsing into sullen 
 silence. 
 
 The priest said : ' Once on a time my heart was 
 like a flaming fire which God Himself had kindled. 
 I used to shout to the skies, / am persuaded that 
 neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, 
 nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor 
 height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able 
 to separate us from the love of God, which is in 
 
 Christ Jesus our Lord, but ' He sighed deeply. 
 
 ' Ah, my son, life is a long road and Time a cripple 
 that lags thereon. For us priests, time wears the 
 shell of tortoise or snail ; at first we mount up with 
 wings like eagles, then we run and are not weary, 
 presently we walk and do not faint ; but finally we 
 sit down, we stretch the limbs, we close the eyes, 
 and to the buzzing of flies and the humming of bees, 
 we fall asleep. The heart grows tired. The mass 
 loses its mystery. One yawns at the altar. I tell 
 you what God should do. He should perform a 
 miracle once a year to keep up the enthusiasm of 
 the clergy. Then all would be well. But the same 
 things happen, day after day, year after year ; and 
 they are dull things. It is not easy.' 
 
 ' The miracle is always happening,' said Gaspard. 
 
 ' Where ? '
 
 FALAISE REALLY BELIEVES 157 
 
 ' life is a miracle.' 
 
 ' A dull miracle ! ' 
 
 ' Only to the blind.' 
 
 ' Look at my life, what does it offer me ? I marry 
 the youth ; I baptise the baby ; I bury the dead. 
 So it goes on, from year's end to year's end.' 
 
 ' But what could you make of that life ? Think ! 
 If you teach the children of your village to under- 
 stand the glory of the world, men to wonder at its 
 power, and give to all the true knowledge of life, you 
 bring heaven itself to that corner of the earth. God 
 does not want miracles ; He wants work. When 
 you teach a man to be clean, to be honest, to be true, 
 you prepare the way for the Kingdom of Heaven. 
 You yawn at the altar ! Well, turn to the reason of 
 man, serve God at that altar, make men worthy to be 
 called the children of God, and your yawns will be 
 fewer.' 
 
 ' The reason ! Why, that is Satan's stronghold. 
 My son, you talk with the folly of your years. It is 
 the heart that must be saved, it is the heart that 
 must be given to God.' 
 
 ' Do you read with your heart, think with your 
 heart, choose with your heart ? ' asked Gaspard. 
 ' All that is a trick of the tongue, a jest of language. 
 It is the heart that has borne these thousands of 
 poor children from their homes to their undoing. 
 No ; we are different from the animals because God 
 has given us a reason. We think. We balance. We
 
 158 FALAISE REALLY BELIEVES 
 
 decide. If we do not use our reasons, if we trust 
 blindly to our instincts, we are no better than the 
 beasts. I tell you all the Church's talk of the heart 
 will pass away and become a folly in the world. 
 Men will advance. They will heal disease, they 
 will build great cities, they will invent tools and 
 implements, they will search earth for her secrets 
 and heaven for her mystery. They will grow ! they 
 will be like angels ! they will become gods and the 
 sons of God ! And the Church will fall. Mark my 
 words, Father, the Church will fall.' 
 
 Later that same day Gaspard went to Falaise 
 and drew her away from the young man to whom 
 she had so passionately attached herself. The 
 girl's eyes were bright with excitement, her cheeks 
 flamed with feverishness, constantly she laughed 
 and broke into wild singing. It was several minutes 
 before Gaspard could calm her. 
 
 ' It is unseemly,' he said presently, ' to behave 
 as you have behaved this day.' 
 
 ' You don't understand, Gaspard.' 
 
 * I know what is pure and right and good,' he 
 replied firmly. 
 
 ' I love him.' 
 
 ' You are beside yourself and would love fifty 
 others if you had the chance.' 
 
 ' No ; I love only this one. Listen, I will tell you. 
 When I first came with Hildebert I did not really 
 believe. I only hoped it might be true. Then Father
 
 FALAISE REALLY BELIEVES 159 
 
 Henry talked to me, and I became like him ; I only 
 thought of the Crusade as an adventure ; I just 
 wanted to see what would happen. At last I grew 
 tired. I wanted to go home. I was frightened. I 
 was wretched. But when Edmund came to me with 
 food, and sat with me in the twilight, and talked to 
 me of God and miracles and the glory of the Holy 
 Land, oh, then my heart became like a fire, and I 
 believed ! I believed ! I really believed ! It is 
 glorious to believe. Oh, Gaspard, I wish you could 
 believe too ! When one really believes it seems all at 
 once that nothing matters, nothing ! I am no longer 
 hungry and thirsty, or tired and miserable, or dull 
 and frightened. I no longer want to go home. I no 
 longer doubt what will be the end. No ! I am so, so 
 happy ! I love Edmund with all my heart and soul ; 
 and when we get to Holy Land I am going to be his 
 wife, and we are going to give ourselves to God, and 
 death may come to us but it will not make us sad 
 or sorrowful. We are so happy, Gaspard. We have 
 plighted our troth. We shall love each other for 
 ever and ever.' 
 
 A man drew alongside of Falaise. Gaspard looked 
 at him, expecting to see the fanatic Edmund. But 
 it was not Edmund. It was Blackbeard. 
 
 ' So you are still here ! ' said the rogue, smiling. 
 
 Falaise cowered to Gaspard's side, shrinking from 
 the horrible man with his broken teeth and his 
 shining ear-rings.
 
 160 FALAISE REALLY BELIEVES 
 
 ' Got a girl to talk to, as well as a King's horse 
 to ride, have you ? ' laughed Blackboard. ' Well, 
 you're luckier than I am. Never mind, comrade. I 
 promise you one thing. I'll wager you money on it, 
 too. 'Tis this. Before ever we get to Marseilles I 
 shall be the bigger man of the two. What say you ? 
 Will you take the wager ? ' 
 
 ' Did the river teach you nothing, then ? ' asked 
 Gaspard scornfully. 
 
 Blackbeard's face grew suddenly fierce. ' The 
 river ? What river ? ' he demanded. Then he 
 pretended to recollect. ' Ah, yes, to be sure. But, 
 comrade, that's ancient history.' He laughed 
 uneasily. ' The river ? Well, it washed some of 
 the dirt off my clothes and gave me a cool feeling 
 after the sun. Yes. And you ? How liked you the 
 taste of running water ? They baptised us in the 
 same flood, didn't they ? A jolly town. Fine 
 feUows in that town. Ah, but there are different 
 towns ahead of us. Wait, comrade. Have patience. 
 The river's one thing. Cold stone is another. Four 
 walls and a grating ; what ? Ah, you wait a 
 little.' 
 
 He dropped behind, and Gaspard did not turn 
 round to look at him. 
 
 ' Who is that man ? ' cried Falaise. ' He fright- 
 ened me. Gaspard, he is going to do you an injury. 
 Who is he ? How have you offended him ? ' 
 
 Gaspard said quietly. ' He is nothing. Dismiss
 
 FALAISE REALLY BELIEVES 161 
 
 him from your mind.' And then, passing his arm 
 through hers, he bent his head, and as they walked 
 together through the twilight, he spoke to her of 
 true love which is calm and deep and quiet, of virtue 
 which is strong and honourable, of chastity which is 
 like the stars of God, and of her father, her mother, 
 her home, of Isabel and the long days ahead. 
 
 ' I know now,' he concluded, ' that this crusade 
 will go on till we reach the waves. I know that it is 
 hopeless for me to think of getting you and Hilde- 
 bert to come back before the flood is reached. But, 
 Falaise, on the road thither, walk as your mother's 
 daughter. Be proud, be calm, be steadfast in your 
 soul. As you love God, let there be dignity mixed 
 with your virtue. Suspect yourself. Be watchful 
 of your moods. Question your faith and hold your 
 emotions in a hand of iron.' 
 
 She could not understand him. ' Yes, I will, 
 Gaspard ; I really will,' she cried, nervously and 
 eagerly. ' But you don't know what it is to believe, 
 really to believe, with the whole heart. You think 
 the sea will not divide ; you are sure we shall never 
 get to Holy Land. So you see you can't possibly 
 understand what it is really to believe. I wish you 
 had faith, like Hildebert's and mine. How lovely 
 that would be ! But, Gaspard, do be careful of that 
 horrid man with the black beard and the ear-rings. 
 I am sure he means harm to you. And now I must 
 go. Edmund is calling me. Hildebert is still with
 
 162 FALAISE REALLY BELIEVES 
 
 Stephen. Good-bye, dear Gaspard, for the present. 
 You understand me now, don't you ? I really do 
 believe. I love God. I am so happy.' 
 
 She smiled into his eyes, ran to Edmund, and 
 was soon singing the battle-song of the Crusade 
 beside her latest lover.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 THE DARK HOUSE 
 
 THEY were approaching a large town. 
 Nearly three weeks had gone by since Gaspard 
 left his home, and for the greater part of that time 
 he had walked, like the rest of the host. Crusader 
 was still in the ranks, loaded with the most tired and 
 exhausted of the children. Hildebert travelled with 
 Stephen. The fat priest had dropped behind with a 
 company of merry men. Blackboard had ridden 
 away on a mule. Falaise walked with her lover, only 
 occasionally taking her place on Crusader's back. 
 Gaspard very often carried a child on his shoulders, 
 but he was silent and morose. 
 
 Just as the head of the procession was reaching 
 the city, a company of soldiers emerged from the 
 central gateway and took up a position on both 
 sides of the two towers. At first the crusaders 
 expected antagonism, but Stephen's cart was 
 allowed to pass unchallenged, and the head of the 
 procession surged after it, singing the hymns which 
 had cheered them for nearly three hundred miles of 
 their long journey. 
 
 Falaise was close to the gateway when she saw 
 
 163
 
 164 THE DARK HOUSE 
 
 Blackboard among the soldiers. At once she was 
 aware of danger for Gaspard. She clutched her 
 lover's hand, drew him into the thick of the host, 
 and told him her fears. ' We must warn him,' said 
 Edmund ; ' but I fear it is too late.' Quietly they 
 turned round, and made their way as quickly and as 
 secretly as possible backward through the advancing 
 host. Before they came upon Gaspard they en- 
 countered the fat priest eagerly shouldering his way 
 through the crowd, his face shining in anticipation 
 of food. Falaise caught his arm, and told him. 
 
 ' Ah ! ' cried the fat priest. ' I know what it is. 
 I heard the black-bearded rogue talking with his 
 fellow villains. He stole a mule the other night 
 and rode forward. They are after your brother's 
 horse. Wait a minute. Follow me.' He turned 
 round, forced his way through the crowd, and, after 
 some minutes of this battling, came upon Crusader. 
 
 ' Off with you, my chickens ! ' he exclaimed, lift- 
 ing the children down in a bunch. ' Now,' he cried 
 to Falaise, ' warn your brother ; tell him not to 
 claim the horse ; tell him to look out for me on the 
 further side of the city two days hence.' He slipped 
 Crusader's bridle off, stowed it under his habit, and 
 then mounted, carefully covering the saddle and 
 stirrup-irons with the ample folds of his robe. ' One 
 of you fellows lead the horse by his forelock,' he 
 cried. ' They won't recognise him without his 
 handsome harness. Here, you on a mule, ride at my
 
 THE DARK HOUSE 165 
 
 side. Close up the ranks. Laugh and sing. Be 
 merry, I say, be merry ! Falaise ! ' he caUed after 
 the girl ; ' tell your brother to keep well behind, and 
 in the middle of the ranks.' 
 
 So they went forward. 
 
 As the priest approached the gateway, Blackboard 
 came forward and peered through the crowd at his 
 horse. He caught but a glimpse of a drooping, 
 shabby head, and quickly changed the direction of 
 his eyes to scrutinise the animals behind. ' There'll 
 be children in the saddle,' he said, ' and the harness 
 is fit for a King ; there's no mistaking it.' 
 
 The priest laughed with joy as he entered the 
 town. 
 
 ' Now,' said he to himself, ' for the best inn and 
 the best dinner ! After, back I ride to my flock on 
 this solid horseflesh. 'Tis mine by the ruling of 
 Providence and all the dictates of human reason ! ' 
 
 Gaspard had been warned by Falaise. He 
 lowered the child who was on his shoulder, snatched 
 the cap from his head, got on the other side of a 
 heavy man mounted upon a tall mule, and stooping 
 down a little, walked steadily forward to the 
 gateway. 
 
 Blackbeard missed him. 
 
 With feelings of anger as well as of relief, Gaspard 
 entered the city, and made his way through the 
 dense multitude hi the streets. The clergy had come 
 out in force to welcome Stephen of Cloyes. Monas-
 
 166 THE DARK HOUSE 
 
 teries had thrown open their doors to receive the 
 pilgrims. Merchants and shopkeepers were offering 
 a royal hospitality. The whole town was humming 
 with pleasure, excitement, kindness, and good- 
 humour. 
 
 Gaspard could not find Falaise. He strode away 
 by the first side-turning that offered itself, and 
 enquired of a decent citizen the nearest way to an 
 inn. It took him nearly half an hour, so great was 
 the press, to find this hostelry, and when he reached 
 it, the place was so packed with customers that it 
 was impossible to enter. 
 
 A strange-looking woman approached Gaspard 
 and spoke to him. ' Are you one of the crusaders, 
 then ? ' she asked, rather sadly. Her face was 
 extraordinarily sorrowful ; her clothes were ragged ; 
 she had eyes that were dark with tragedy, and her 
 voice sounded like a ghost's. 
 
 ' I go with them yes,' answered Gaspard. 
 
 ' Where is your cross ? ' 
 
 * I do not wear one.' 
 
 ' How is that, if you go to Holy Land ? ' 
 
 Gaspard shrugged his shoulders. ' Not all of us 
 wear the red cross,' he replied. 
 
 ' But you are going to Holy Land ? ' 
 
 ' I go as far as the others.' 
 
 ' And you are hungry ? You want food ? ' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 ' Come with me ; I will provide for you.'
 
 THE DARK HOUSE 167 
 
 Gaspard said : ' You are kind, good dame ; but I 
 have money and can afford to pay for my provender. 
 Better if you seek out some of the little children 
 who are near famished and carry neither purse nor 
 wallet.' 
 
 She said quietly, * Come with me,' looked at him 
 for a moment with her large sorrowful eyes, and led 
 the way across the street and up a narrow turning 
 to a house that was shuttered from the ground to 
 the roof. 
 
 Gaspard's heart sank at sight of this melancholy 
 dwelling. The woodwork was blistered and rotten. 
 The stone was crumbling to ruin. On the window 
 sills was a thick dust, and hi the doorway a litter like 
 a dustbin. He gazed up at the dead house, studied 
 the dark entry, that was like a tomb, and for a 
 moment hesitated to enter. He was conscious of 
 fear. 
 
 The woman passed in before him and opened a 
 door at the back which admitted them to a dismal 
 yard. Gaspard looked about him with increasing 
 suspicion. A flight of stairs led from this yard to 
 the upper floor. The woman went to those stairs 
 without looking round, and Gaspard followed. She 
 went up before him, opened a door, passed through 
 a gloomy chamber, and came to another door which 
 was fastened. Here she paused for a moment, 
 fumbling at the lock, then she opened the door and 
 went in. The room was in pitchy darkness.
 
 168 THE DARK HOUSE 
 
 ' Wait,' she said in a low voice, ' while I kindle 
 a lamp.' 
 
 ' Why not open the shutters ? ' asked Gaspard, 
 peering about him in the thick darkness. 
 
 ' Wait,' she said. 
 
 He heard her moving here and there in the gloom. 
 His heart began to beat uneasily. There was some- 
 thing weird in this house. The very air breathed 
 mystery. He became definitely suspicious and 
 alarmed. His eyes strained to see, his ears strained 
 to listen. He stood with his fists clenched, ready 
 to repel attack. 
 
 At last she struck fire. 
 
 The sound came from the left, a little behind him. 
 He turned quickly and saw the flame with relief. 
 In the midst of the darkness the figure of the woman 
 could be seen stooping over a lamp, the flame 
 gradually revealing her sorrowful face and ragged 
 dress. 
 
 Something black and covered was lying on the 
 floor at her feet. It was like a human body.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 WOUNDED 
 
 woman came to Gaspard, carrying the 
 J- lamp, and led the way to the further side of 
 the room. A table stood near the wall. On this table 
 were the remains of a meal black bread, fruit, a dish 
 of meat, and some bottles of wine. The woman 
 invited Gaspard to sit and eat. 
 
 ' Dame,' said he, ' why do you keep the shutters 
 closed, and waste oil in the midst of sunlight ? ' 
 
 ' No harm will come to you,' she answered ; 
 ' eat and drink, pilgrim ; the time is short.' 
 
 He sat down at the table with his back to the 
 wall, and began to eat. 
 
 ' When you get to Holy Land,' said the woman, 
 seating herself on a bench opposite to him, ' will you 
 think of this meal in my dark house and mention 
 my name in your prayers ? ' 
 
 ' What is your name ? ' 
 
 ' Isabeau.' 
 
 Gaspard started. ' I know one who is called 
 Isabel ; her name is often in my prayers and oftener 
 in my thoughts.' 
 
 169
 
 170 WOUNDED 
 
 The woman leaned her elbows on the table, 
 studied Gaspard's face for a long time, and seemed 
 to pierce his very soul with her eyes of woe. 
 
 ' I would have you go to Gethsemane,' she said 
 slowly, ' and kneel there on the ground and say 
 these' words : " Jesus, Thou Man of Sorrows, take 
 pity on Isabeau of the dark house" And I would 
 have you go to Calvary and kneel there on the 
 ground, and say : " Jesus, Thou Lamb of God, take 
 pity on Isabeau of the dark house." And at the tomb 
 where He was laid : " Jesus, Thou Christ of the Living 
 God, take pity on Isabeau of the dark house." Those 
 three prayers, at those three places. Will you do 
 that, in memory of this meal ? ' 
 
 Gaspard, who could not remove his eyes from 
 her gaze, said quietly, * Tell me, dame, what ails 
 thee ? ' 
 
 ' Will you do what I ask ? ' 
 
 * If I get to Holy Land yes.' 
 
 ' You will not forget ? ' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 She rose from the bench. ' It is time you were 
 going. To wait longer is not safe.' She took his 
 hand. ' Pilgrim, if your heart is pure, God will 
 answer your prayers,' she said solemnly. ' Keep 
 your heart very pure. And remember me in Holy 
 Land.' 
 
 They were walking across the room to the door. 
 The black and covered thing that was like a human
 
 WOUNDED 171 
 
 body caught Gaspard's eyes. He stopped and 
 pointed to it. ' What is that there that lies so still ? ' 
 he demanded. 
 
 The woman said, ' It is one of them,' and con- 
 tinued on her way. 
 
 ' What do you mean ? ' asked Gaspard, still 
 standing. 
 
 She turned and looked at him. ' Forget,' she said, 
 ' all that you have seen here, and ask me no ques- 
 tions. Remember only the three prayers in Holy 
 Land. Come, pilgrim ; for you the sun shines 
 and the day is beautiful. For me it is always the 
 dark house. Come, it is unwise to tarry.' 
 
 As she turned to go forward something impelled 
 Gaspard to seek an answer to his question. He 
 strode quickly across the room, reached the covered 
 thing on the floor, and was just about to pluck the 
 dark cloth from it, when steps were heard hurrying 
 across the next room. 
 
 The woman sprang towards him as he stood 
 upright over the mystery. At the same moment 
 the door opened. 
 
 Blackboard entered the room. 
 
 An oath, half of rage and half of joy, broke from 
 the scoundrel's lips. He looked from Gaspard to 
 the woman, from the woman to Gaspard, and then 
 hastily and fearfully scanned the covered thing at 
 their feet. This in a moment. Then, closing the 
 door swiftly behind him, he plucked out his dagger.
 
 172 WOUNDED 
 
 ' At last ! ' he said, between his broken teeth. 
 
 In the darkened room, with its dim light, he 
 looked horrible, repulsive, terrible, standing there at 
 the closed door with his drawn dagger. 
 
 ' How you come here only the Fiend knows ! ' 
 said Blackbeard. He laughed. ' My coy-duck 
 never served me better. I meant you for a prison. 
 Now you shall die.' 
 
 The woman cried in a low, whimpering voice, 
 ' Have mercy ! He is but a poor pilgrim. He has 
 eaten a little bread. He goes to Holy Land. Do 
 him no harm.' She placed herself in front of 
 Gaspard, and spread out her arms. ' Let him go,' she 
 cried. ' He knows nothing. I have told him naught. 
 He has eaten a little food, and he has promised to 
 pray for me.' 
 
 Blackbeard did not take his eyes from Gaspard's 
 face. ' Pray for you ! The prayers of a horse-thief ! 
 Stand on one side, whimperer ; stand on one side,' 
 he said savagely to the woman. 
 
 She seemed to grow suddenly bold. ' No ! No ! 
 I will not ! ' she cried in a louder voice. 
 
 Blackbeard was amazed by her courage. ' What ! ' 
 cried he ferociously, taking his eyes from Gaspard. 
 ' Will you withstand me ? Will you disobey ? 
 Get out of the way.' 
 
 ' Yes, I will disobey you ! ' answered the woman. 
 ' Yes, even if you kill me.' 
 
 Gaspard, unseen by Blackbeard, had taken a
 
 WOUNDED 173 
 
 surgeon's knife from his doublet. He stood in the 
 dark corner, watching his enemy with eyes that 
 did not flinch. 
 
 ' Do you know who this boy is ? ' demanded 
 Blackboard, blazing at her with rage. 
 
 ' I have borne enough ! ' almost shouted the 
 woman. * Too long I have been afraid. I will hold 
 my peace no longer.' 
 
 ' He is my enemy ! ' cried Blackboard. ' He is 
 the man I went to seek to-day. He escaped me ; he 
 fooled me with the soldiers. That is one score. 
 And I owe him another. Get out of my path, 
 woman. This man is my enemy. I tell you his hour 
 has come.' 
 
 ' You leave me to starve,' said the woman, ' you 
 desert me, you cast me off for weeks, for 
 months ' 
 
 ' Get out of my way ! ' cried Blackboard, ap- 
 proaching. 
 
 ' And then you return, you come back to me 
 why ? To make me a partner in your crimes ! ' 
 
 ' Out of my way.' 
 
 ' I am scarlet with the blood you have shed ; my 
 soul is dragged to hell by your crimes. No ! I will 
 not keep silence. Kill me ! Kill me ! I will bear 
 no more.' 
 
 She moved towards Blackboard, her arms still 
 spread. Although he did not take his gaze from 
 Blackboard's eyes, Gaspard was aware of the tall,
 
 174 WOUNDED 
 
 dark woman moving from the darkness into the 
 yellow light of the lamp, with her arms spread. 
 ' Strike ! ' she cried. ' Strike ! Add my body to 
 his on the floor. And then kill the youth. That 
 will be three three hi one day ! Kill us, murderer, 
 kill us. God will avenge ! ' 
 
 Blackbeard hurled her ferociously across the room. 
 He was about to spring on Gaspard when, before he 
 could properly recover his balance, Gaspard leaped 
 at him like a tiger. The boy's spring was so sudden 
 and swift that Blackbeard reeled, toppled, and fell 
 heavily to the ground. But on the ground he 
 recovered his senses, and grasping his dagger hi a 
 firm hand, he struck at Gaspard's breast. 
 
 The point pierced the flesh but stopped at the 
 ribs. 
 
 Gaspard got a knee across the scoundrel's arm, 
 and held it prisoner. Then, with his right hand, he 
 lifted his surgeon's knife and, in his rage, would 
 surely have killed the villain then and there, 
 but for the woman. She rushed upon him, 
 caught his wrist in her two hands, and held it 
 firm. 
 
 ' Keep your soul pure ! ' she cried in a breathless 
 voice of agony and fear. 
 
 ' Pull him off me ! ' called Blackbeard, with an 
 oath, writhing on the ground. 
 
 ' You have promised me. The three prayers. 
 Keep your soul pure.'
 
 WOUNDED 175 
 
 Gaspard was almost overthrown between them. 
 
 ' Do not shed blood,' cried the woman in Gaspard's 
 ear. ' Wait ! Hold him there. I will come to you 
 quickly.' 
 
 ' Open the shutters ! Cry murder from the 
 windows ! ' said Gaspard, in gasps. 
 
 ' No ! Wait ! ' said the woman. 
 
 She went from the room. 
 
 Blackboard lay still, pinioned by Gaspard. 
 
 The two men gazed at each other, both breathing 
 hard, the teeth clenched, the eyes flashing with 
 excitement. The lamp on the distant table threw 
 but a dim light on their strained faces and their 
 heaving bodies. 
 
 The woman returned quickly with a rope. She 
 spoke not a word, but kneeling at Blackboard's side, 
 began to pass the rope under his neck and round his 
 body, binding him with a cunning skill that amazed 
 Gaspard. At first he struggled furiously, but 
 presently lay still. When the man's arms and 
 hands were safely pinioned, Gaspard got up and 
 held his feet while the woman continued her 
 silent work. Blackboard made no effort to 
 escape. 
 
 ' You taught me the trick of this,' said the 
 woman at last, looking into Blackboard's eyes. 
 ' Move, and you strangle yourself ! Struggle, and 
 you go to God's judgment ! Ah, do you not fear ? 
 How many souls have you hurled into the other
 
 176 WOUNDED 
 
 world ? How many men, women, and little children 
 have you murdered ? And their blood is on my soul. 
 I am as guilty as you. Last night I saw you kill poor 
 yonder man, and to-day I should have helped you 
 destroy the body. But God shook my soul in the 
 night. I looked into the abyss of hell. I saw 
 murderers in the flames. Oh, you have made me 
 like them. Once I was pure, once I was innocent. 
 It was you who lured me away, it was you who 
 ruined me, it was you who made me a partner in 
 your crimes. And you have beaten me, stabbed me, 
 starved me, deserted me. I have lived in this 
 dark house for years, till my soul is as dark and guilty 
 as its walls. But now it is over. I will not lie here 
 any more, waiting for you in fear and trembling, 
 starving and deserted till you come to feed me and 
 beat me and make me help you in your crimes. It 
 is over at last. The long hell of my life. God has 
 warned me.' 
 
 She rose up and caught Gaspard's hand. ' Come,' 
 she said, dragging him to the door. 
 
 ' Wait a moment,' he said. 
 
 He bent over Blackboard, lifted him carefully, 
 and dragged him to the wall. There he propped 
 him up, and moved to the covered body on the floor. 
 Reverently he removed the dark cloth, and looked 
 at the dead man's face. It was the face of a young 
 and handsome man, whose youth and beauty had 
 just begun to be marred by depravity and sin.
 
 WOUNDED 177 
 
 Evidently Blackboard had lured him, drunk, to this 
 dark house, and made him an easy victim of his 
 dagger. 
 
 Gaspard lifted the dead body and placed it beside 
 Blackboard. 
 
 ' Look on this face, till the soldiers come for 
 you,' he said. ' Look on it, and consider what you 
 will say to God in a day or two's time.' 
 
 He went to the table and drew it to the centre of 
 the room, so that the lamp shone full upon Black- 
 beard and the murdered man. 
 
 ' Now, villain, till the lamp dies, look at your 
 victim. And when darkness comes, think of death 
 and judgment.' 
 
 He became suddenly fault and dizzy. Something 
 warm moved at his side. He clapped his hand 
 there, looked at it, and saw blood. Then he moved 
 to the door, like a man in a dream. 
 
 As he joined the woman, and as they were passing 
 through the doorway, Blackboard burst into a roar 
 of laughter. 
 
 Gaspard stopped, but the woman dragged him 
 forward. ' Come,' she said ; ' we have work to 
 do.' 
 
 They were at the bottom of the stairs, when they 
 heard Blackboard's voice shouting at its loudest 
 from the room above : 
 
 ' Murder ! Murder ! Stop them ! Stop the 
 murderers ! '
 
 178 WOUNDED 
 
 Gaspard lurched against the wall, and spread his 
 hands. At that moment his legs gave way under 
 him. ' I am fainting,' he murmured, and fell back- 
 ward into the woman's arms.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 THE SEA 
 
 WHEN Gaspard opened his eyes he found him- 
 self alone. His brain was perfectly clear. He 
 remembered everything. Quite rationally he looked 
 about the place to see where he was, and even 
 examined his side with a calm and professional 
 curiosity. Then he rose to his feet. 
 
 He was in the yard of the dark house, close to the 
 stairs. His wound had been bathed and a roll of 
 clean linen was bound about his body. He felt 
 for his miniature and instruments ; they were safe 
 hi his doublet. He listened to hear any sounds from 
 above, and then moved towards the passage which 
 led to the street. 
 
 The door opened as he entered this passage, and 
 the strange woman, Isabeau of the dark house, 
 made her appearance. She seemed both surprised 
 and glad to behold him so well. 
 
 ' There is nothing to fear,' she assured him. ' I 
 went back to the room and gagged my husband ; 
 then I came and dressed your wound it is not a 
 serious one ; and afterwards I went into the street 
 
 179
 
 180 THE SEA 
 
 to bring some of your friends. They are going to 
 stay the night in the town, so that you have plenty 
 of time. The monks will receive you at their 
 monastery. A party of crusaders are now in the 
 street waiting for you.' 
 
 Gaspard said : ' And what becomes of you ? ' 
 
 ' That is nothing,' she answered. 
 
 She did not tell him the determination at which 
 she had arrived. For a few minutes she had dreamed 
 of going to Holy Land herself, but when Blackboard 
 called ' Murder,' and when Gaspard fainted, she 
 saw her duty hi another light. Blackboard, she 
 knew well, would lie away her life and Gaspard's 
 too ; he would swear that they had murdered the 
 man upstairs and that when he interfered to save 
 the youth, Isabeau and Gaspard had made him a 
 prisoner. This threatened Gaspard. She alone 
 could save him. And so she had made up her mind 
 to act at once, to get Gaspard safely away, and 
 then go to the authorities and give herself up as the 
 accomplice of Blackboard . Only thus could she 
 save him. She was tired of her life. Now that 
 Gaspard had promised to pray for her in Holy Land 
 she was content to die. 
 
 So she helped Gaspard from the house, gave him 
 into the hands of some crusaders outside, and then 
 went quietly to her doom. If Gaspard had known 
 that she was going to the rack, the thumbscrew, 
 and the faggot, he would not have walked so
 
 THE SEA 181 
 
 cheerfully away from the horror of the dark 
 house. 
 
 On the following day he was out early in quest of 
 Crusader. He wanted to find either Falaise or the 
 fat priest. He walked hither and thither, making 
 enquiries of those he knew, but without result. 
 ^Vhen the procession set out for the town Gaspard 
 was still without knowledge of his horse or his 
 sister. 
 
 A gale was blowing, and into the teeth of this gale 
 moved the great pilgrimage. Many new children 
 had joined it. A considerable number of merchants 
 and priests swelled the ranks. Marseilles was not 
 far off, and the chance of seeing a great miracle 
 performed had drawn thousands of people from 
 the town and countryside. Stephen in his cart was 
 no longer depressed. The incense of flattery had 
 ascended to his brain. Bishops had kneeled to him. 
 The populace had pressed about him to touch his 
 robe. Women had filled his cart with flowers. 
 Hildebert was no longer necessary. A priest had 
 suggested that the great Stephen should be alone 
 in his glory and honour. 
 
 So Hildebert came back to his place in the ranks. 
 
 The little boy's face was wonderfully beautiful. 
 He had lived at Stephen's side for many days. 
 He had heard the great story of the call. The 
 enthusiasm of his own soul had become heightened 
 by the marvels of this tale.
 
 182 THE SEA 
 
 He saw Gaspard and came to his side eagerly, 
 taking his hand. 
 
 ' Where is Falaise ? ' asked Gaspard. 
 
 ' I do not know ; but, Gaspard, I want to tell 
 you ' 
 
 ' Have you seen my horse ? ' 
 
 ' No ; but, dear Gaspard, I have so much to tell 
 you. What do you think ? Stephen has told me 
 everything ! ' 
 
 The wind blew in their faces. There was a noise 
 all about them of rustling cloaks. Clouds of fine sand 
 were driven at them by the great wind ; the bellow 
 of the gale in their ears and the sting of the dust 
 in their eyes made talking difficult. But as they 
 stumbled on, with heads bent and eyes half closed, 
 Hildebert told Gaspard the story of Stephen, 
 breathlessly and in gasps, lifting up his voice almost 
 to a shout because of the wind that drove every 
 sound but its own roar over their shoulders, with the 
 sand that blinded them. 
 
 Gaspard felt the little hot hand of his brother 
 squeezing and moving in his hand as the shouted 
 words whipped past his ears. 
 
 He was not interested by the story. The poor 
 man who had come to Stephen on the hill at Cloyes, 
 and who had charged him with this mission of a 
 Children's Crusade, was not for Gaspard, as he was 
 for Stephen and Hildebert, an apparition of the 
 Lord Himself. And so everything that followed
 
 THE SEA 183 
 
 from that mysterious appearance had no meaning, 
 no reality, no consecration for the rational mind of 
 Gaspard. He said to himself, ' This Stephen is a 
 madman ; he has brooded on religion ; he has 
 dreamed of crusades ; and the man who came to 
 him was a phantom of his own brain.' While 
 Hildebert poured out his wonderful story Gaspard 
 was busy with his own reflections. And the wind 
 seemed to make nonsense of miracles and dreams 
 and crusades to Holy Land. 
 
 The day passed, and night came. They slept in 
 the open, and in their sleep were drenched by a 
 vigorous rain. Gaspard woke to find Hildebert 
 nestling into his side, and not nearly so wet as 
 himself. 
 
 The sun was shining from a cloudy sky ; the wide 
 landscape twinkled and pulsated with innumerable 
 moisture ; there was a pleasant freshness in the 
 wind which was still blowing hard, but now with 
 cheerfulness rather than malignity. 
 
 Gaspard disengaged himself from the embrace of 
 Hildebert, and stretching his stiff limbs, got upon 
 his feet, and started off to explore the procession. 
 He found no trace of the fat priest or Crusader. 
 Towards the end of his enquiries, however, he came 
 upon Falaise and went to her side. She was sharing 
 some food with Edmund. 
 
 Before the procession started the family was 
 united once again, Hildebert walking between
 
 184 THE SEA 
 
 Gaspard and Falaise, with the faithful Edmund 
 singing at the side of the rejoicing girl. And thus 
 they continued till the end of the great march was 
 reached, and the roofs and towers of Marseilles, 
 with the new church of Notre Dame just a-building 
 on the hill-top, came into view. But Crusader had 
 disappeared. 
 
 It was not with the wild enthusiasm of the priests 
 and children that Gaspard hailed this sight of 
 Marseilles, but his heart was nevertheless stirred 
 by a profound feeling of thankfulness. For them 
 it was the beginning of the miracle ; for him the 
 end of a folly. They shouted at the prospect of 
 divided waves and a clear road of God to Jerusalem ; 
 he thought of the road home, and Isabel, and his 
 work as a man of science. 
 
 He was troubled by the disappearance of Crusader, 
 and considered whether he had money enough to 
 buy three horses, so that he and Hildebert and 
 Falaise might push home as soon as possible. 
 It was not his intention to walk home if he could 
 possibly help it ; every day was precious, precious 
 beyond the power of words to express ; it was not 
 only that he feared the Count's displeasure, not 
 only that he dreaded what that august master would 
 be saying of him, but that he himself longed with a 
 deep and earnest desire to be back at his sensible 
 work. 
 
 Marseilles was too big a town to excite itself
 
 THE SEA 185 
 
 unduly over the arrival of these pilgrims. Numbers 
 of people turned out in the streets with genuine 
 enthusiasm, numbers regarded the children with 
 an amused curiosity, but still greater numbers went 
 on with their daily traffic, neither turning the head 
 nor asking a question. 
 
 The enthusiasm was among the children them- 
 selves. Nothing can describe the wonder and the 
 rapture of those transports as the host of thirty 
 thousand entered the gates of Marseilles and passed 
 through the narrow streets shouting their hymns, 
 lifting their swords and spears, waving their banners, 
 and almost running in their desire to behold the 
 miracle of the sea. 
 
 The pressure of those behind became almost like 
 a panic. The order of the ranks was completely 
 broken. Priests, monks, merchants, and roguish 
 camp-followers pushed their way through the 
 pressing children, or doubled down side streets in 
 their haste to be first at the seashore. 
 
 God was to do a mighty work. 
 
 ' Now shall the earth behold the glory of the 
 Lord ! ' shouted a thin old priest, and he forced his 
 elbows into the faces of children and hurled himself 
 through the crowd, cursing those who obstructed 
 his way. 
 
 Hildebert was silent with awe. His large eyes 
 appeared to grow bigger, his cheeks were pale, he 
 walked very peacefully. Falaise and Edmund were
 
 186 THE SEA 
 
 singing, but he was silent. They were pressing 
 forward, but he was content to hold Gaspard's 
 hand and to go at his pace. Gaspard looked down 
 at him and was conscious of pity, pity that was 
 like a stab at his heart. 
 
 ' Almost I could wish, Hildebert,' he said tenderly, 
 ' that the sea would part, if only for you.' 
 
 ' God's Will be done,' said Hildebert, without 
 looking at him. ' I believe in God. I am not 
 afraid.' 
 
 In a dense mass the procession moved with a 
 wild disorder through the tortuous dark streets. 
 Stephen's cart, surrounded by priests, was out of 
 sight ; as far as Gaspard's eyes could see there was a 
 thick crowd of people ahead of him, some riding, 
 some waving spears and banners, all of them 
 struggling to improve their places and get quickly 
 to the sea. He glanced backward, and the same 
 sight met his gaze. 
 
 Presently, as if a voice had spoken simultaneously 
 at every ear in that host of surging people, the 
 procession checked checked visibly and distinctly 
 and became silent. The hymns died on the air. 
 The banners were lowered. The pressure ceased. 
 
 ' The sea has not divided ! ' was murmured from 
 the head of the procession to the last units straggling 
 far behind. 
 
 None could explain how it happened. Quietly, 
 mournfully, whisperingly, the host of children went
 
 THE SEA 187 
 
 forward through the dark streets knowing that the 
 miracle had not occurred. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the effect of this 
 knowledge. It was not only the sudden cessation 
 of song and eagerness that made it so terrible ; it 
 was the change hi the faces of the children. As if a 
 sponge had passed over all those happy and excited 
 little faces, the host presented, in an instant, the 
 aspect of disillusion and despair children's dis- 
 illusion ; children's despair. It was a heart- 
 breaking sight. 
 
 Falaise gripped Edmund's hand, and looked with 
 terror into his eyes. ' Shall we have to go back ? ' 
 she whispered. He said, ' It may not be true.' She 
 came closer to him, ' We shall have to go back ! 
 All the way back ! I am afraid.' Hildebert heard 
 the last words. He turned to her and said, ' Do 
 you doubt the power of God ? Have faith. He will 
 not desert us. Are we not His little children ? ' 
 
 They emerged at last from the narrow street, 
 and came into view of the sea. 
 
 It was one of those perfectly beautiful days when 
 the earth, the sky, and the ocean appear to be 
 rejoicing together at the departure of storm. The 
 immense dome of blue sky was piled and spread with 
 continents of languid moving clouds as white, as 
 radiant, and as pure as mountain snow. The deeper 
 blue of the great heaving sea was broken and spaced 
 with foam white shimmering foam which ran
 
 188 THE SEA 
 
 along the tops of shining waves and tossed a smoke 
 of silver spindrift to the wind. The orange-coloured 
 cliffs shone like walls of brass in the morning sun. 
 There was a gladness in the green of the grass, a 
 splendour of rejoicing in the autumn banners of the 
 trees. And the wind was vigorous, but warm and 
 kind ; the sea was stormy, but happy and proud- 
 hearted ; the heavens were in commotion, but 
 without menace or depression. 
 
 The children spread out in a mighty confusion on 
 the seashore. By far the greater number of them 
 saw the ocean for the first time, and the sight 
 seemed to assuage the bitterness of their disenchant- 
 ment. Some of them actually ran laughing and 
 clapping their hands down to the edge of the waves. 
 A few knelt on the shore and prayed aloud, lifting 
 their faces, which were transfigured with enthusiasm, 
 to the smiling sky. A few took up their battle- 
 hymn and shouted its music to the clangour of 
 the sea. 
 
 Hildebert was carried off his feet with joy and 
 passionate faith. He began to dance, striking his 
 hands together, and gazing towards the mist of the 
 horizon. 
 
 ' Oh, it will happen ! The miracle will happen ! ' he 
 cried excitedly. It seemed to him that God was 
 greater than he had ever imagined. Stephen would 
 pray, and presently these huge toppling waves 
 would drive asunder, would pile themselves up in
 
 THE SEA 189 
 
 mighty banks on either side, and then the children, 
 God's children, would pass over to Holy Land, 
 singing their hymn. 
 
 What was the effect made upon Gaspard by this 
 tumultuous and indifferent sea, which filled the air 
 with a music he had never heard before and spread 
 before his gaze an idea of strength which he had 
 never yet imagined ? He stood in the midst of the 
 children, conscious of elation and loneliness, con- 
 scious of joy in the sea, of answering exultation 
 to the rapture of the main, but aware of solitude, 
 an appalling solitude in his soul. Yes, the sea was 
 magnificent and glorious ; no words could sound 
 the true praises of its majesty and power ; but how 
 small a thing was man, how insignificant and weak, 
 how separate and solitary in the midst of this 
 enormous universe ! 
 
 ' Hildebert ! ' he said, stooping to his brother ; 
 * as sure as there is a Living God, the creator and 
 maker of all this mighty world, as sure as there is 
 such a One, this sea will never part. Make up your 
 mind. Prepare your soul for the shock. As sure as 
 God lives, this sea will flow for ever.' 
 
 ' Oh no, oh no ! ' cried Hildebert. ' You do not 
 know how great He is. You have forgotten what 
 He did for Israel. Stephen will pray, and the 
 waves will divide asunder. We must have faith. 
 God will perform a miracle. I know it, I know it, I 
 know it ! '
 
 190 THE SEA 
 
 Gaspard waited a moment and then said to him, 
 ' Suppose the miracle does not occur ? ' 
 
 ' But it will ! ' 
 
 * Suppose, however, that it does not ? ' 
 
 ' I cannot ! ' 
 
 ' Well, listen to me ; it is possible that the sea 
 will not divide. If it does not divide, we shall have 
 to go back. To walk would be terrible. You 
 would die on the road. Now, listen. I have money. 
 I can buy horses. But if I delay till everybody 
 here is seeking to buy, my money will not procure 
 us even a single mule. It is well therefore that I 
 go now ; at once. Will you come with me ? or will 
 you promise me to remain in this spot with Falaise 
 till I return ? ' 
 
 ' The sea will divide. You do not really believe 
 in God or you would know that it must divide. 
 Why, our Lord has promised Stephen ! How can 
 you doubt ? Stephen told me. Our Lord said to 
 him : The sea will divide, and you will go over to 
 Holy Land like the Israelites of old. Do you think 
 that He will promise and not perform ? ' 
 
 Gaspard laid a hand on his shoulder. ' Look at 
 this sea ! ' he said angrily, impatiently. ' Look at it ! 
 Do you think it will stand still when Stephen bids 
 it ? ' He laughed scornfully. ' You must be mad. 
 Heavens, child, look at it, look at it ! Don't you 
 feel it is eternal ? I tell you the sea will not divide. 
 It will flow like this for ever and ever, till the end
 
 THE SEA 191 
 
 of the world. You talk about God's Will ! Here 
 it is visible to your eyes this great flowing sea, 
 which obeys His word and for ever will obey it. 
 Not Stephen's wiU, but God's ! ' 
 
 Hildebert answered less confidently, ' Stephen 
 told me what our Lord said to him. I am sure 
 there will be a miracle.' 
 
 ' Well, will you promise me not to move from 
 here till I return ? ' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 * You and Falaise ? ' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 He went to Falaise, spoke to her, and then 
 turned away from the sea. 
 
 As he struggled through the crowd towards the 
 streets of the city, he caught sight of Stephen's 
 purple robe in the midst of a bevy of priests and 
 monks. The shepherd boy was standing on a 
 rock at some little distance from the actual waves, 
 his arms folded slackly over his breast, one hand 
 raised to his mouth, his eyes frowning at the sea. 
 
 Gaspard stopped for a moment and regarded him. 
 Then he laughed bitterly, and went forward again, 
 well pleased and satisfied. 
 
 ' Beaten ! ' he said to himself ; ' beaten ! very 
 handsomely beaten ! And thank God for it ! '
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 SHIPS OF GOD 
 
 MARSEILLES gradually woke up to the fact 
 of this extraordinary crusade. A host of 
 thirty thousand hungry people, most of them help- 
 less and penniless children, proved an inconvenient 
 addition to the city's population. Tradesmen 
 became apprehensive ; merchants visited the town 
 authorities ; soldiers were moved here and there to 
 prevent riots. 
 
 The city was divided in its views. Many of the 
 clergy who still cherished in their hearts the ideals 
 of the Christian religion rejoiced in the presence of 
 these consecrated children and came in the most 
 stately procession to the seashore, confident of a 
 miracle. Others, monks and clergy alike, who 
 regarded their religion merely as a superstition, and 
 lived as wicked and violent lives as the worst 
 rascals in the country, made open mock of the 
 Crusade. 
 
 As for the lay population, some looked upon this 
 venture with reverence and hope, while others 
 
 192
 
 SHIPS OF GOD 193 
 
 frankly and openly sided with the unbelieving clergy 
 in laughing its pretensions to scorn. There was one 
 point of view only on which they were aU agreed, 
 to wit, that if the crusaders demanded food it was 
 reasonable for them first to produce the purchasing 
 money. One or two of the monasteries opened their 
 doors and offered hospitality; here and there a 
 baker bestowed loaves and cakes in charity; but, 
 for the most part, the city shook its head, and stood 
 guard over its merchandise. 
 
 The shore was soon thronged by a tremendous 
 crowd of people. Sailors of all nations, singers and 
 actors, cut-throats, pickpockets, kidnappers, and 
 highwaymen, swelled the ranks of this enormous 
 multitude. The air was filled with the most diverse 
 sounds oaths, blasphemies, and atrocious merri- 
 ment clashing with the pure hymns of the children, 
 the prayers of the priests, and the songs of the 
 troubadours. Ghoulish women enticed the fairest 
 of the children to their evil homes; villainous 
 men picked out the best dressed of the children 
 and led them away with promises of food. Con- 
 fusion reigned from one end of the shore to the 
 other. 
 
 When Gaspard returned from his business in the 
 town, it took him a full hour to reach the side of 
 Hildebert. He found the boy resisting the appeal 
 of a man to go with him into the town for food, 
 and was just in time to drive off an old woman
 
 194 SHIPS OF GOD 
 
 who was on the very point of carrying off Falaise to 
 her den of infamy. 
 
 ' I have bought three horses,' he said to his 
 brother and sister. ' They are strong and in good 
 condition. It is well that we start at once. My 
 money is disappearing. I possess just enough, 
 and only just enough, to procure food for our- 
 selves on the way home. Let us extricate 
 ourselves from this mob, and make a start before 
 sunset.' 
 
 Falaise was half-willing to go, but wished first of 
 all to see Edmund. Hildebert, however, refused to 
 depart. 
 
 ' You can go,' he said ; ' you and Falaise ; but 
 I shall remain. God is trying our faith. He only 
 wants those who believe. When the faithless have 
 departed, when only the true remain, He will divide 
 the waters.' 
 
 Gaspard was vexed and angered by this reply. 
 
 ' If you wait a thousand years,' he said fiercely, 
 ' the waves will still be a-breaking on this shore. 
 What is the use ? God has not deceived you : it is 
 you who have deceived yourself. You believe in a 
 God that does not exist. The God who does exist 
 pities you, and tells you to use your reason. He 
 has given you that reason to use. Look at this great 
 sea ! Employ your reason and look at it with the 
 eyes of understanding you know it will never 
 disobey God's law ! '
 
 SHIPS OF GOD 195 
 
 But Hildebert stood firm. 
 
 For three days they waited in Marseilles, these 
 unhappy and almost disenchanted children. Some 
 cursed God aloud in the streets, and either started 
 to go home or, in a frightful collapse of despair, 
 willingly surrendered themselves to the villainy of 
 the dark slums and secret alleys. Others remained 
 on their knees for hours and hours on the seashore, 
 praying for the miracle. Edmund had disappeared, 
 and Falaise was losing faith. The crowd gradually 
 thinned. A few priests, a few scoundrels, continued 
 to move among the children ; but most of the 
 citizens returned from this unprofitable and now 
 rather tedious excitement to the business of their 
 daily lives. The despairing crusaders were almost 
 left alone. 
 
 Gaspard said to himself : ' I must wait a little 
 longer. A week at the most will make an end of it. 
 If their eyes are not opened by that time, hunger at 
 any rate will drive them home. It cannot be more 
 than a week.' 
 
 He was troubled about money. Every day he had 
 to pay for the keep and stabling of his three horses 
 and every day he had to provide food for the family 
 food which had swiftly risen, with this advent 
 of thirty thousand human beings, to almost famine 
 prices. 
 
 One day as he came to the shore from looking 
 after his horses, he was amazed to find all the
 
 196 SHIPS OF GOD 
 
 children shouting with joy and filling heaven with 
 their hymns of victory. Instinctively he looked 
 at the sea as if he expected the miracle, but at the 
 same moment he laughed mockingly at himself for 
 this foolish thought. The sea was turbulent, 
 inclined to anger, and a great wind from the 
 land was in wrathful conflict with the advancing 
 waves. 
 
 He hurried to Hildebert. 
 
 The little boy almost flung himself into Gaspard's 
 arms. ' The miracle ! The miracle ! ' he cried 
 ecstatically. 
 
 ' The miracle ! ' 
 
 ' Yes, the miracle ! God has answered our 
 prayers. It is settled, Gaspard, it is settled ! I 
 knew it would be. We only had to wait. God was 
 trying our faith. I told you it was so.' 
 
 ' What miracle ? Look at the sea ! Are you 
 mad? ' 
 
 ' God has made another way for us,' answered 
 Hildebert. ' We are not to march to Holy Land. 
 We are to sail ! Think ! He knows how tired we are. 
 He has seen how we suffered on the march hither. 
 He has had compassion on us. Angels have ap- 
 peared to Stephen. God has provided ships for us. 
 We sail to-morrow. To-morrow, to-morrow, to- 
 morrow ! Oh, Gaspard, I told you God would hear 
 our prayers. To-morrow we shall start for Holy 
 Land ! '
 
 SHIPS OF GOD 197 
 
 ' Where are these ships ? ' asked Gaspard with a 
 sinking heart. 
 
 Hildebert pointed excitedly to the harbour. ' There 
 are seven of them. Great tall ships with spreading 
 sails ! There will be room for all of us all of those 
 who are faithful. We shall sail to Holy Land 
 blown by the winds of Heaven ! ' 
 
 ' Where comes the money to pay for these 
 ships ? ' 
 
 ' Money ! They are ships of God ! ' 
 
 ' Nonsense ! Who pays for these ships ? ' 
 
 ' You won't believe ! I tell you they are sent to 
 us by God Himself. Ask Falaise, ask Stephen, ask 
 anyone. They really are, Gaspard. No money will 
 be paid. No money is wanted. Only faith faith 
 in the great God ! ' 
 
 Gaspard caught the arm of a priest who was 
 passing at that moment. ' Father,' he said respect- 
 fully, ' will you tell me the truth of this new tale, 
 this tale of the ships ? ' 
 
 ' It is quite simple,' answered the priest, study- 
 ing his face with interest. ' Our Blessed Lord has 
 moved the hearts of certain pious traders in this 
 town, and they have placed at the disposal of 
 Stephen seven goodly and well-formed ships that 
 ply to Holy Land. In such ways does God, our 
 heavenly Father, delight to do His miracles.' 
 
 Hildebert seized the priest's hand, and held it, 
 as he exclaimed, ' God knew didn't He, Father ?
 
 198 SHIPS OF GOD 
 
 that we should be tired if we marched at the bottom 
 of the sea all the way to Holy Land. That is why 
 He sent the ships. Isn't it ? He knew we should be 
 so tired.' 
 
 The priest stooped and kissed the little boy's 
 forehead. Then he turned to Gaspard. ' My son,' 
 he said gently, regarding the troubled face of 
 Gaspard with compassion, ' listen, I entreat you, to 
 the words of this child, who is so like an angel ; for 
 of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.' 
 
 The sky seemed to crash about Gaspard's head 
 and the ground to go from under him. He closed 
 his eyes for a moment, breathing hard, and then 
 turned aside to cover his emotion. 
 
 ' I am lost,' he said to himself. ' This is the end 
 of my life. All my hopes, all my dreams, the whole 
 of my love. Yes, this is the end. I shall never see 
 France again.' 
 
 A sudden tempest of anger swept through his 
 soul. He swung round, bent flashing eyes on the 
 priest, caught Hildebert's arm with his hand, and 
 called God to witness that they were cheating them- 
 selves and would surely break their hearts. 
 
 At the same moment he was conscious of an almost 
 irresistible impulse to abandon his brother. Isabel 
 called him, science called him, ambition, common 
 sense, and all the joys and hopes of his burning 
 youth, called him to return. What ! to fling away 
 his life ? to go to the butchery of Moslem spears
 
 SHIPS OF GOD 199 
 
 on the trading ships of these foolish pious merchants? 
 to leave home for ever, hope for ever, love for 
 ever, life for ever ? to go to absolute and certain 
 death with a pack of crazy children ? just because 
 he had given his word to his mother ! 
 
 Thus far he had come, bitterly and unwillingly 
 enough, certain that the sea would turn his brother 
 back. But now the madness was to embark afresh. 
 There was to be no end now, save only death. 
 Everything was gone now. The last hope, the last 
 hope ! It was as if hell had got him into its hold, 
 and had fastened all its flaming doors. 
 
 The priest said to him, ' If you do not believe, 
 why do you go ? ' 
 
 Gaspard pointed to Hildebert. ' He is my 
 brother. And I I am his fool.' 
 
 ' I don't want you to come,' cried Hildebert, ' if 
 you don't believe.' 
 
 The priest regarded Gaspard with genuine 
 sympathy. ' I understand,' he said quietly. Then 
 he took hold of Gaspard's arm and, close to hie 
 face, said in a low voice, ' But remember the sacred 
 words, Greater love than this hath no man that he lay 
 down his life for his friends. There are also those 
 strange words, my brother, Ye have not chosen Me, 
 but I have chosen you ! ' 
 
 He made the sign of the cross in parting bene- 
 diction, and moved hurriedly away. 
 
 The three children stood together in silence.
 
 200 SHIPS OF GOD 
 
 Then Falaise came close to Gaspard, slipped a 
 hand timidly through his arm, nestled closer to his 
 side, and said to him in a low voice, ' Will you help 
 me to find Edmund ? I want him to be in our 
 ship.'
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 THE STORM 
 
 ON the following morning a procession of 
 clergy came down to the harbour and, 
 dividing itself, went on board the seven ships. 
 Prayers were then offered, hymns sung, and the 
 blessing pronounced on each of the vessels. The 
 owners, the captains, and the sailors knelt with the 
 children to receive this valediction of the priests. 
 
 Then the clergy and the owners went ashore ; 
 cheers were raised by a great crowd on the quay, 
 and with a vast rattling of chains, shouting of 
 orders, blowing of whistles, and a hurricane of fresh 
 cheers from crusaders and spectators, the anchors 
 came up, the sails unfolded themselves, and the 
 great ships moved towards the open sea. 
 
 Gaspard watched the receding shore with a cloud- 
 ing grief in his eyes. He was haunted by those 
 words of the priest : Ye have not chosen Me, but I have 
 chosen you. He felt that perhaps it was the Will of 
 God that he should be like an iron shield to his 
 brother, that when the hour of massacre arrived he 
 should be there standing before Hildebert and pro- 
 tecting him to the very last from the swords and 
 
 201
 
 202 THE STORM 
 
 spears of murderous Islam ; nevertheless, he could 
 not keep from his heart a feeling of the most 
 exquisite agony and remorse as he saw the land of 
 France withdrawing itself from his gaze. 
 
 'If indeed,' he reflected, 'God has chosen me 
 He has chosen one who is unwilling, one whose 
 sacrifice is grudgingly, rebelh'ously made. I would 
 be home in France. I would be at my work. Ah, 
 would that I were now in Chateauneuf , working and 
 studying, dreaming and achieving, with Isabel for 
 my bride.' 
 
 Falaise, too, was unhappy. Edmund had gone, 
 and no one could tell her on which ship, if on any 
 at all, he was making this great journey to Holy 
 Land. Hildebert was for a moment depressed, 
 because he had been separated from Stephen. He 
 leaned against the rail of the ship, and gazed at the 
 nearest vessel, where Stephen could be seen in his 
 purple robe surrounded by young men and children. 
 He was not unhappy, but he wished himself with the 
 Chosen of God. 
 
 For three days the vessels sailed within hailing 
 distance of each other, favourable winds filling their 
 sails and a sea not over rough bearing them beneath 
 the smiling heaven. Happy, glad, and confident 
 were the children. On every ship the hymn rang out 
 in treble voices : 
 
 Jesus Christ, repair our loss, 
 Unto us restore Thy cross.
 
 THE STORM 203 
 
 The sailors learned to sing this hymn, and at their 
 work would shout the words to the fresh breeze and to 
 the gracious sky, almost drowning the pretty voices 
 of the children. 
 
 On the fourth day the heavens darkened, the 
 wind increased, the sea became passionate and fierce. 
 All that day, with their sails furled, their naked 
 masts and trembling rigging black against the sky, 
 the seven top-heavy, broad-bowed vessels drifted 
 and plunged and rolled in the trough of the 
 waves. 
 
 At night the wind had become a tempest. The 
 wretched children, huddled below hi utter darkness 
 and almost suffocated by the decks above their 
 heads, could hear the splash of the waters, the roar 
 of the wind, and feel the staggering progress of the 
 ships. But they could not see the blackness of the 
 night, the immense heave of the waves, the reel and 
 trembling of the masts the wide agony and 
 desolation of the world. 
 
 When morning came only five of the ships were 
 visible. 
 
 The children learned that two of the finest 
 vessels had struck upon the island known as the 
 Rock of the Recluse, off Sardinia. ' The ships are 
 nothing but splinters,' said one of the sailors to 
 Gaspard ; ' and those who sailed in them are 
 nothing but corpses all the lot, every man jack of 
 them and every girl jilt of them, the whole jolly
 
 204 THE STORM 
 
 lot corpses ! ' He seemed to delight in the 
 disaster. 
 
 Hildebert enquired the names of these two ships, 
 eagerly scanning the others that were near enough 
 to be seen. When the sailor told him, he cried out, 
 ' No ; you are wrong ! You must be wrong ! 
 Stephen's ship cannot be wrecked. He is the 
 Chosen of God.' 
 
 The sailor studied him curiously. Then he 
 stooped down to the level of Hildebert 's face and 
 said to him very slowly and meaningly, ' My son, 
 my pretty pink-faced son, Stephen is a corpse. I 
 don't care whether he was Chosen or Unchosen. I 
 don't care whether he had all the angels or all the 
 devils looking after him. If Stephen was aboard 
 either of those two ships, Stephen is a corpse. Now 
 you take that from me. Bite your teeth on it. 
 Chew it. Turn it over on your tongue. And then 
 swallow it, once and for all. Stephen is a 
 corpse ! ' 
 
 Hildebert turned away from the man with loath- 
 ing, and caught hold of Gaspard. ' He can't be 
 dead, can he ? It's a mistake, isn't it ? ' 
 
 The sailor laughed and went off a pace or two. 
 Then he stopped and turned round. ' Stephen's a 
 corpse,' he said cheerfully. ' I don't know who 
 Stephen is, but I know what he is ; I never so much 
 as saw Stephen, but I know where he is to be found 
 by those who want him. Yes. I know that for
 
 THE STORM 205 
 
 certain. Stephen's a corpse. Let everybody know 
 the fact. As sure as fish swim and winds blow and 
 cocks crow, Stephen's a corpse.' 
 
 Gaspard looked down on Hildebert's upturned 
 face. ' I am afraid it is true,' he said quietly. 
 ' That man knows what ships have gone down. 
 There's no reason why he should tell us a lie.' 
 
 ' But, Gaspard, Stephen is Chosen by God ! He is 
 to lead us to Holy Land ! ' 
 
 It was too late now to ask Hildebert if he still 
 felt sure of the Divine Will. Gaspard's heart was 
 too full of utter misery for reproach or argument. 
 The die was cast. Nothing could now alter his 
 destiny. 
 
 ' We cannot tell what will happen to us,' he said, 
 ' but, whatever may be the fate of Stephen, we our- 
 selves are certainly bound for Holy Land.' 
 
 Hildebert left him and went in search of Falaise. 
 He wanted someone to tell him with certainty that 
 Stephen was not drowned. 
 
 He returned to Gaspard hi an hour's time. ' I 
 cannot find Falaise anywhere,' he said desolately, 
 and with a real note of weariness in his voice. 
 
 ' What is the matter with you ? ' asked Gaspard. 
 
 The little boy turned away his face. He lifted 
 and rested his arms on the rail of the ship, and 
 looked across the vast circle of the sea, his eyes only 
 just a few inches higher than the rail. 
 
 Gaspard put an arm round him. ' What is it ? '
 
 206 THE STORM 
 
 he asked, bending down to the wind-blown curls of 
 his brother. 
 
 ' Everybody ' began Hildebert. 
 
 ' Yes ? ' 
 
 ' thinks that Stephen is drowned,' cried the 
 
 poor little boy. ' But it can't be true. It simply 
 can't be true, Gaspard.' 
 
 Late that afternoon Gaspard searched the ship for 
 Falaise. She was not to be found. He encountered 
 the same sailor who had told him of Stephen's fate, 
 and^asked him if he had seen anywhere a young 
 girl describing Falaise in a few words, as if un- 
 willingly. 
 
 ' There's such a slip as her with the captain,' 
 replied the sailor. ' Fast friends, they are, I tell 
 you ! Kissing and cuddling in the cabin all the 
 morning. Why, he must be fond of her, seeing that 
 he gives her the best of his food.' He noticed 
 Gaspard's darkening brow. ' What ! is she a flame 
 of yours ? ' he enquired, laughing. ' Well, take 
 advice from me ; don't you interfere with the 
 captain. He's young. He's peppery red peppery. 
 And he fears neither God nor devil ! ' 
 
 Gaspard left him and went to the other end of 
 the ship. 
 
 Towards evening Falaise came to the place where 
 he was sitting with Hildebert. Her face was flushed, 
 she smiled self-consciously, her eyes could not 
 encounter the steady gaze of Gaspard. Before she
 
 THE STORM 207 
 
 reached them, she began to say excitedly that she 
 had been in the captain's cabin, and that he had 
 shown her this and that, and was so kind and so 
 interesting and so brave. 
 
 When she had finished Hildebert said to her, ' Did 
 he tell you anything about Stephen ? ' 
 
 ' About Stephen ? No. Why ? What do you 
 mean ? ' 
 
 ' They say he was drowned in the night.' 
 
 ' Two ships were wrecked,' said Falaise. 
 
 ' What were their names ? ' 
 
 ' I forget now.' 
 
 Gaspard looked up. ' You were too busy to heed 
 the names of two broken ships ! ' he said bitterly. 
 Then he added through his teeth, ' Edmund is soon 
 forgotten ! '
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 BETRAYED 
 
 THE truth, the awful and terrible truth, came 
 slowly home to them. 
 
 For several days they sailed through calm seas 
 with no other gloom upon their souls than the now 
 certain knowledge of Stephen's death. Hildebert 
 declared that God would raise up another leader, 
 and spoke of Moses and Joshua. But the other 
 children were frightened and alarmed. It was 
 only the beauty of the sea, the kindness of the sky, 
 and the cheerful blessing of the sun that kept 
 them from despair. 
 
 One day Gaspard said to Falaise, ' Take me to this 
 new friend of yours.' 
 
 ' To the captain ? ' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 She was too frightened to disobey. 
 
 ' Will you let me speak to you ? ' asked Gaspard 
 at the cabin door. 
 
 The captain, a young, handsome, but turbulent- 
 looking fellow, measured Gaspard from head to foot. 
 Then he turned to Falaise. ' A brother, you say ? 
 All right. Come in. What do you want ? ' 
 
 208
 
 BETRAYED 209 
 
 Gaspard said to Falaise, ' Leave us together,' 
 and shut the door as she departed. Then he ap- 
 proached the captain. ' The leader of this expe- 
 dition, Stephen of Cloyes, is dead, drowned off 
 Sardinia with about a thousand other children,' he 
 said slowly. ' They are now leaderless. I don't 
 suppose there is one of the remnant who would 
 aspire to take his place. While he was living, the 
 crusade was hopeless. Now that he is dead, it is 
 absurd. I suggest to you that we should turn and 
 go back to France.' 
 
 ' Are you one of the crusaders ? ' asked the 
 captain. 
 
 ' I am here to look after my brother and sister.' 
 ' You're big enough to take the leader's place.' 
 ' No doubt, but I haven't sufficient faith.' 
 ' Perhaps not. However, you've got cheek enough 
 for a dozen. What ! Do you give me orders ? ' 
 The captain got up and swaggered towards 
 Gaspard in the rolling and threatening manner 
 of a brutal seaman. ' Look here, my son, if you 
 don't want to find yourself in irons, and chucked 
 into three foot of bilge, and fed on bread and 
 water for the rest of this trip, you keep your 
 mouth shut in my presence ; aye, and keep it 
 shut among the other children, if you're sick for 
 mummy and can pipe no other tune than the 
 homeward tack. Understand ? Understand ? ' he 
 cried hi a louder voice, noticing the terrible
 
 210 BETRAYED 
 
 anger in Gaspard's ashen face. He laughed in a 
 bullying way, and shot his face close to Gaspard's. 
 ' I punish mutiny on board my ship,' he said 
 brutally, ' in three ways the irons, the lash, 
 and the plank. Now, go ! And if you don't want 
 one of those three, go with your tail between your 
 legs.' 
 
 For a minute Gaspard was tempted to spring 
 upon the man, but wisdom saved him just in time. 
 He turned and went out of the cabin, dazed, sick, 
 despairing. 
 
 He found the children in a state of excitement. 
 They were looking towards the other ships, which 
 had sailed far away from them and were now fast 
 approaching the just visible coastline of Africa on 
 their starboard bow. Even in the desolation of his 
 manhood, the utter misery of his helpless cowardice 
 before the captain's truculence and insults, Gaspard 
 was struck by the course on which these vessels 
 sailed. He swallowed the lump in his throat, 
 dashed the tears of mortification from his eyes, and 
 pushed his way through the children to the rail of 
 the ship. 
 
 ' Why, they are leaving us ! ' he exclaimed, 
 craning his neck over the rail and shading his eyes. 
 
 ' What does it mean ? Are we deserted ? ' 
 sounded on every side. 
 
 Gaspard turned away and walked to the other 
 end of the ship. He met a sailor and asked
 
 BETRAYED 211 
 
 him why the other vessels had left them. The 
 man said, ' Ask no questions, young sir ; it's wiser! ' 
 He returned to the group of children, and stood 
 with them, watching and thinking. 
 
 It was certain to him now that treachery had got 
 them in its hold. The insolence of the captain meant 
 contempt for the Crusade, and the disappearance 
 of the four ships proclaimed that Holy Land was 
 not the goal. 
 
 A cry of fear rose from the children. 
 
 Falaise came to Gaspard, white as death, her eyes 
 starting from her head. ' What is going to happen 
 to us ? ' she asked. 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 Hildebert approached. ' Gaspard, they say we 
 are betrayed ! ' 
 
 They both knelt at his knees and caught his hands. 
 * What shall we do ? ' they cried. ' We are be- 
 trayed ! We are lost ! What shall we do ? ' 
 
 The cry of the other children became a wail. 
 
 At this moment the captain made his appear- 
 ance. He regarded the crying children with amaze- 
 ment. ' Here's a fine army to kill the Turks ! ' he 
 exclaimed, throwing back his head. ' Why, what are 
 you crying for ? Want your mothers ? Want to go 
 home, do you ? Well, listen to me.' He raised his 
 voice. ' You'll go home when you've killed the 
 Saracens, and not an hour before ; and till that 
 time comes you'll dry your eyes and keep your
 
 212 BETRAYED 
 
 mouths shut, or I'll tie you to the rigging and drag 
 you through the sea on hooks. Now, understand. 
 Those are my orders. No more caterwauling on 
 this ship or I'll flay the lot of you alive.' 
 
 He turned on his heel and walked off. 
 
 The sun had set. A greyness in sea and sky 
 filled the air with gloom. Seen in this light, the 
 clustering and huddled children, with their pale 
 faces and eyes of terror, were like ghosts. It was 
 not the captain who had so stricken them. It 
 was their own sudden loss of God. They were dumb 
 and motionless children not only betrayed, not 
 only threatened with slavery, but friendless in earth 
 and heaven. 
 
 Then a beautiful thing happened. 
 
 Hildebert rose from his knees beside the seated 
 Gaspard, and approached the children. His face 
 was white, but in his eyes there was a look of 
 exaltation. It was as if a light burned behind his 
 skin, as if angels were looking from his eyes. He 
 spread his arms out to the children and said, ' It 
 is wrong to weep. It is wicked not to have faith. 
 God has promised. We must trust Him. Come, 
 let us show the great Father in heaven that His 
 children, who have faith in His infinite goodness, 
 are unafraid ! ' And he lifted up his voice and 
 sang 
 
 Jesus Christ, repair our loss, 
 Unto us restore Thy cross.
 
 BETRAYED 213 
 
 Most of the children were touched by his magic 
 enthusiasm were ' full of God ' ; but one, the 
 nearest to him, felt nothing but despair. 
 
 While the voices of the children rose to heaven 
 in the gloom of twilight, Falaise, kneeling at Gas- 
 pard's feet, clutched his hands, pressed herself to 
 him, and, raising her white face close to his, ex- 
 claimed in a panic of terror, ' I don't believe in God. 
 But you save me, you, Gaspard ! Save me. I am 
 afraid.' 
 
 And Gaspard looked in her eyes, placed one of his* 
 hands tenderly upon the lovely head, and said in a 
 voice of agony, ' I promise. I will save you. But 
 pray to God, pray to God.' 
 
 At that moment a sailor came to them. ' Get up, 
 lassie,' he shouted above the voices of the singing 
 children. ' The captain wants you.'
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 A RUSE 
 
 QUICK as lightning Gaspard saw his course. 
 Falaise was clinging to him, her face close 
 to his. He slightly bent his head. The singing of 
 the children was sufficient to drown a whisper 
 from the sailor. * Say you will come in a moment,' 
 he murmured into his sister's ear. 
 
 She looked up, did as she was told, and the sailor 
 went off. 
 
 ' Gaspard,' she cried to him in breathless terror, 
 ' the captain wants me to be his wife. He says he 
 will marry me and give me riches. But I do not like 
 him. I pretended I liked him because I was afraid. 
 He makes me frightened. What shall I do ? If I 
 refuse to marry him he will flog me. He is violent 
 and fierce. Oh, Gaspard, tell me what to do. I 
 dare not, I dare not become his wife.' 
 
 ' Would you rather die ? ' he asked quietly. 
 
 ' Yes, yes ! I have been foolish, but rather than 
 marry him I would die. Oh, Gaspard, think better 
 of me. I will try to be splendid like you. Forgive 
 
 214
 
 A RUSE 215 
 
 me. I have been vain and foolish. I repent now. 
 I am so sorry.' 
 
 ' There is not a moment to lose. Listen to me, 
 little sister. If I faced the captain and tried to 
 protect you, I should be overpowered and nothing 
 would come of my resistance. But you perhaps can 
 save us all. Now listen to me. Go to him ; hide 
 your feelings ; pretend still that you like him. 
 While he is merry ask for drink. Say you are 
 thirsty. When the wine is brought to you, point 
 to something at his back and ask its meaning. As 
 he turns round to look at this object, quickly and 
 secretly empty into the wine ' he paused and drew 
 a phial from his doublet ' the contents of this little 
 bottle. Then pretend to taste the wine. Say it is 
 not good. TeU him it is bitter, challenge him to drink 
 it. If he does drink it, very soon he will fall as if he 
 was dead. Hide the goblet, and come running from 
 the cabin crying that the captain is hi a swoon. 
 Now, little one, go, and go bravely. All our lives, 
 perhaps, hang upon your acting well this part.' 
 
 When she was gone Gaspard went to Hildebert 
 and drew him aside. 
 
 * I have something to ask you,' he said. ' We 
 are betrayed. We are helpless in the hands of wicked 
 and merciless men. Never shah" we see Holy Land, 
 and never again shall we behold our homes. This 
 is to be our fate we shall be sold as slaves. Now, is 
 not death better than slavery ? Would it not be
 
 216 A RUSE 
 
 better for us to die now than to live for long years in 
 cruel and most shameful slavery ? I ask you that 
 question.' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Hildebert, ' it would be sweeter to 
 die.' 
 
 ' Now there remains another question,' said 
 Gaspard. ' Shall we think only of ourselves, we 
 three, or shall we help to deliver all the other 
 children from their frightful doom ? I can procure 
 our deaths without pain, but to free the others we 
 must needs set fire to the ship.' 
 
 Hildebert started away from him. ' What do 
 you mean, Gaspard ? ' he asked in a tone of horror. 
 
 ' It is better to die than to live as a slave. You 
 have said so yourself.' 
 
 ' Yes ! ' cried Hildebert ; ' if God sends the 
 death.' 
 
 Gaspard regarded him sternly. ' God acts 
 through men, men who have reason and can think 
 sanely.' 
 
 ' But it is wicked to take life ! It is mutiny 
 against God ! ' 
 
 ' Then you would be a slave.' 
 
 ' If God wiUs it.' 
 
 'Have you thought of Falaise ? ' 
 
 * What do you mean ? ' 
 
 ' Slavery for a young girl is worse than hell.' 
 
 Hildebert thought hard. 
 
 ' She must die,' said Gaspard. ' I have made
 
 A RUSE 217 
 
 up my mind. She herself is willing. I shall kill her 
 to-night. Even if she were unwilling, I should kill 
 her! ' 
 
 ' You dare not ! ' cried Hildebert. 
 
 ' Yes I dare. And if you are wise, you will go 
 with her into the next world ; and after you, I will 
 follow.' 
 
 ' Do you think I am afraid to be a slave ? ' cried 
 Hildebert. 
 
 ' Do you know what slavery means ? ' 
 
 Hildebert's eyes flashed. ' I care not what 
 it means. I believe in God. I will pray to Him in 
 chains ; yes, and under the whips of the taskmaster 
 I will preach the true religion of Christ. I am not a 
 coward. Would you creep away to heaven, like a 
 deserter ? Are we not here to fight and suffer for 
 our Saviour ? What does it matter whether we are 
 free or bond so long as we believe, so long as we 
 teach the love of God to those who are in darkness ? 
 Oh, Gaspard, do not be a traitor ! You make me 
 shudder. To think that you would kill Falaise ! 
 How dreadful, how awful ! It is murder. God will 
 never forgive you.' 
 
 ' Falaise would rather die than live a life of 
 iniquity.' 
 
 ' Yes, so would I,' cried Hildebert, ' if the iniquity 
 was my own ! But we are not guilty of sins done 
 against us. She must suffer whatever comes to her. 
 Even if her life is made like a devil's she can keep it
 
 218 A RUSE 
 
 pure as an angel's. It is her soul that counts. She 
 can plead with those who sin against her. She 
 can make them better, she can help to spread the 
 truth of God. Oh, Gaspard ! do not talk any more 
 of killing us. We must be brave. We must endure. 
 I will preach to all the children and tell them. They 
 will not be afraid of slavery. No one who believes in 
 God, no one who loves Christ, will be afraid of chains. 
 Don't you see it is glorious to suffer for Christ's 
 sake ? ' 
 
 Gaspard was moved by the deep faith of his 
 brother, though he judged it, though he could not 
 understand it. 
 
 ' Say nothing at present,' he said quietly. ' I 
 have a scheme to save us. If it should fail, we can 
 talk again of this other matter. But it may succeed. 
 And if so, we shall get home again to France.' 
 
 'God's Will be done,' replied Hildebert. ' All 
 that we can do is to keep the faith and endure to the 
 end, whatever happens to us, whether it be sweet or 
 bitter.' He took his brother's hand. * Don't you 
 want to say, Gaspard, at the end of your life, / 
 have fought a good fight, I have finished my course ; 
 I have kept the faith ? That is splendid ! Oh, it 
 would be miserable and vile to run away. Think 
 what the martyrs and saints have suffered for us ! 
 I don't think anyone who really believes is afraid 
 of pain and suffering.' 
 
 A sudden cry rang through the ship.
 
 A RUSE 219 
 
 The children turned from looking across the 
 sea, and ran forward ; Gaspard and Hildebert 
 followed them ; at the next moment Falaise 
 appeared, running from the captain's cabin. 
 
 She flung herself against Gaspard and whispered 
 in a great terror, ' He is dead. I have killed him 
 with your poison.' 
 
 ' No,' said Gaspard ; ' he is not dead. Summon 
 your courage, and take me with you to the cabin.' 
 
 ' They wiU kiU us.' 
 
 ' No, have courage.' 
 
 He led her forward through the crowd of children. 
 
 The cabin was full of sailors, talking in loud 
 voices. Gaspard forced his way in. ' Friends,' he 
 said quietly, ' I know something of medicine. Let 
 me look at the sick captain and see what I 
 can do.' 
 
 ' Sick ! ' cried a sailor. ' He's dead, dead as a 
 stone ! ' 
 
 Gaspard bent over the prostrate body of the brutal 
 seaman. For a moment he thought they were 
 right. The man was like a corpse. 
 
 * I think he is not dead, but in a trance,' said 
 Gaspard. He got up and looked at the sailors. 
 ' Who commands the ship ? ' he asked quietly. 
 
 'I do,' said one of the men. 
 
 ' Get the others out of the cabin and the children 
 from the door,' said Gaspard. 
 
 The sailors murmured. * Seems as if he commands
 
 220 A RUSE 
 
 the ship,' they grumbled angrily. ' Who are you to 
 give orders ? ' demanded one. But the man to 
 whom Gaspard had spoken obeyed the order given, 
 and cleared the cabin. 
 
 Gaspard bent over the captain, loosening his 
 clothes. He remained in this posture for a con- 
 siderable time, producing surgical instruments from 
 his doublet and carefully arranging them on the 
 floor. All this time he was thinking hard. 
 
 Presently he got up, and looked the seaman in 
 the face. The two pairs of eyes were reading each 
 other through and through. 
 
 ' Well ? ' demanded the officer. 
 
 ' I can save him,' said Gaspard. 
 
 The other did not reply. 
 
 Then Gaspard said with meaning, ' I can make 
 him well in a few hours, or after many days.' 
 
 Still the other did not answer. 
 
 ' Left to himself,' said Gaspard, ' he will recover 
 soon.' 
 
 The officer looked away. 
 
 ' You are in command of the ship,' said Gaspard. 
 
 ' I am now the master,' said the officer, meeting 
 his eyes. He shifted on his feet and grinned un- 
 easily. 
 
 ' You will sail the ship, you will land us at an 
 Eastern port, and you will sell us into slavery.' 
 
 ' You know all about it, then ? ' laughed the 
 seaman.
 
 A RUSE 221 
 
 ' How much are we worth to you ? ' 
 
 " What you will fetch ! ' 
 
 ' The price of heathen slavery may be less than 
 the price of Christian ransom.' 
 
 * Ransom ? ' 
 
 ' Three at least of these children have rich 
 parents.' 
 
 The officer studied him suspiciously. Then he 
 broke out in a confident tone of voice, exclaiming, 
 ' There's no ransom in this case. What are you 
 proposing to me ? You're but a lad. You say 
 you're a man of medicine. How do I know it ? 
 Besides, I'm the master of this ship. I take no 
 orders. The best place for you, it seems to me, 
 would be the dark hole.' 
 
 He adopted a threatening attitude. 
 
 Gaspard did not flinch. ' Without my care, 
 the captain will be up and about to-morrow 
 morning.' 
 
 ' You say so.' 
 
 ' I know it.' 
 
 The officer considered. ' And you could keep him 
 like that for three days ? ' he asked. 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 The officer said, ' Well, a bargain's a bargain. 
 Keep him like that.' 
 
 ' And you'll take us back to France ? ' 
 
 ' Not I ! ' 
 
 ' Where is the bargain, then ? '
 
 222 A RUSE 
 
 ' Oh, we'll talk about that at Cairo.' 
 
 ' No ; now ! ' 
 
 ' Humph ! A bargain's a bargain. Yes, that's 
 right enough. Well, see here, I'll take you on as 
 one of the crew. 5 
 
 ' My brother and sister must return with me to 
 France.' 
 
 The other opened his eyes. ' Oh, it's a family 
 party, is it ? Well, all right. I'll take you three back 
 with us.' 
 
 Gaspard distrusted his man. ' Hear what I have 
 to say,' quoth he very seriously. ' My father is a 
 rich man, a banker of Chateauneuf ; bring his 
 children safely home to him, and on my word of 
 honour he will load you with gold.' 
 
 The officer pretended to ridicule this idea. 
 
 ' I mean it,' said Gaspard. ' And as sure as there 
 is a living God, you will rejoice one day that you 
 have done this act of mercy, even if it be for the sake 
 of money.' 
 
 ' We'll think about it,' said the officer. ' In the 
 meantime, keep him as he is till we get to Cairo, or 
 at any rate to Alexandria.' 
 
 And he went out of the cabin whistling. 
 
 That night Gaspard said to Falaise, in secret 
 from Hildebert, ' It may be there is just a chance 
 that we get back to France, we three. But if the 
 scheme falls through, you will be sold as a slave in 
 Alexandria. A Turk or an Arab will buy you.
 
 A RUSE 223 
 
 Your life will be dreadful. Little sister, nothing can 
 make such a life worthy the living. Death would 
 be better. Well ' he took her hand and fondled 
 it ' will you surrender your soul to God ? Instead 
 of such a frightful and hideous life, will you die ? 
 I can send you into a sleep from which you will 
 pass peacefully into the next world, and God will 
 forgive us both, you and me, because we pre- 
 ferred death to degradation.' 
 
 He was amazed by her answer. ' I have thought 
 it all out,' she said quietly, nestling to him like a 
 frightened child. ' I would rather die than fall into 
 sin. I was going to ask you when you came to me 
 just now to take my life away. I have said my 
 prayers. I am quite ready to die. And, Gaspard, 
 I am so sorry because I have sinned against you. 
 It was I who brought Hildebert upon this pilgrimage. 
 Your words in your bedroom stung me. Do you 
 remember them ? I deserved them ; but they stung 
 and hurt me. I determined that I would go on this 
 crusade. I wanted to show you that I was not 
 light and foolish and vain. I knew I was, but I 
 wanted you to think I was not. And but for me 
 you would not now be here. I have brought all 
 this ruin upon us upon you, Hildebert, and 
 myself.' 
 
 ' Hush, little sister,' he whispered tenderly ; 
 * the fault was mine. Those cruel words were a sin 
 on my part, for a brother should protect and love
 
 224 A RUSE 
 
 his sister. But think no more of what is done. 
 Perhaps, after all, I may get you safely home ; 
 and if not, sleep is sweet, and death can be without 
 pain of any kind. Have no fear. I will save you 
 from slavery.'
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 SLAVERY OR DEATH? 
 
 IfiVERY day of the voyage now deepened the 
 
 L^ sense of impending calamity. 
 
 The sailors no longer made any disguise of their 
 mission. They would come among the children 
 laughing and ask them how they liked the prospect 
 of slavery. A few, but only a few, of the doomed 
 children would weep, would go down on their knees, 
 would pray the brutal sailors to have pity. The 
 great majority, however, maintained an attitude of 
 sublimest confidence. Hildebert had preached to 
 them, had preached, perhaps, the most passionate 
 sermons ever addressed to the human heart since the 
 days of St. Paul, perhaps the most beautiful sermons 
 ever preached since the days of the Master. 
 
 The child looked slavery full in the face, and with 
 the eyes of an absolute faith. It did not daunt him. 
 It did not strike at his heart a single terror or awake 
 one least regret. God willed it so, and thus it was 
 a most beautiful thing. Nay, it was clear to that 
 lovely heart, as clear as stars shining on the bosom 
 of a winter night, that in this manner God had 
 
 Q 225
 
 226 SLAVERY OR DEATH ? 
 
 provided their way of discipleship. They were to be 
 the leaven of Christ in the meal of Islam. Chained 
 and fettered, harnessed to bitter toil, starved by their 
 tyrants, and flogged by their taskmasters, thus they 
 would preach the Word never uttering reproach, 
 never making an appeal for mercy, never ceasing to 
 sing their hymns of love. 
 
 ' We thought to conquer the Saracens with our 
 spears and with our swords,' cried Hildebert. 
 'Behold how God has humbled our foolish pride 
 and rebuked our cruel hearts ! We are not to 
 destroy, but to create. We are not to kill, but to 
 bring to life. Our Father in heaven has made us 
 not lions of Christ but His doves. In our cages 
 we will praise Him, and by our meekness and our 
 courage we will conquer Islam for the Kingdom of 
 God.' 
 
 Falaise had come under Hildebert's spell. She 
 no longer thought of death, she no longer feared the 
 horrors of an Eastern tyranny. Chief and foremost 
 of all those children singing their hymns on that evil 
 ship, Falaise might be seen, tall and beautiful, her 
 eyes shining, her face white with spiritual exalta- 
 tion. 
 
 One of the sailors said to her, ' There'll be no 
 hard work in the burning sun for you, my pretty 
 flower ; they'll make you a queen, if you toss your 
 head enough and roll your eyes with a proper 
 skill.'
 
 SLAVERY OR DEATH? 227 
 
 She looked at the man and said, ' You cannot 
 make me blush or weep ! If they lift me to a 
 throne or tread me in the dust, I shall still praise 
 the great God, and pray to Him for them and for 
 you.' 
 
 Gaspard spent most of his time watching 
 the captain's trance and studying the character 
 of the second officer, whom he suspected of 
 treachery. 
 
 Towards the hour of sunset the ship arrived at 
 Alexandria. Before the anchor was lowered in- 
 numerable boats swarmed about the French vessel, 
 filled with Arabs and Egyptians. Among these 
 boats was a noble barge, under whose awning sat a 
 huge and hideous Egyptian splendidly dressed and 
 attended by slaves. This was Maschemuth, the 
 Governor, who came to bargain for some hundreds 
 of the Christian children. 
 
 The second officer told Gaspard to remain in the 
 captain's cabin, and thither Gaspard succeeded in 
 persuading Falaise to follow him, lest she should 
 arouse the Governor's cupidity. Hildebert refused 
 to leave the other children. 
 
 Fortunately, the Governor did not purchase 
 Hildebert. Amidst the shouts and laughter of the 
 black-faced people thronging the ships in their boats, 
 the Governor selected his purchases, bargained 
 with the officers, and, after paying the money, 
 returned to his barge. The children were then
 
 228 SLAVERY OR DEATH? 
 
 transferred to the boats, and went over the ship's 
 side singing their hymns to God. Only a few of 
 them shed a tear. 
 
 Hildebert leaned over the rail and called to the 
 departing children never to forget God, and to be 
 faithful to the end. It was one of the strangest 
 sights ever seen in the East, and brought reverence 
 to the hearts of the Arabs. 
 
 The sun had set. The mosques and palaces, 
 with their slender minarets and gleaming towers, 
 faded into the scarlet grandeur of a sunless sky 
 and lost the sharpness of their outline. The water 
 and the shipping were irradiated by a glory of quiet 
 beauty which made everything tremulous and 
 indistinct: And in the hush and coolness of the 
 dying day, the boats rowing to the shore with their 
 cargoes of little children became choirs of Christi- 
 anity, so that the solemn evening air was filled with 
 treble voices singing hymns to God. And from 
 the dark travel-stained ship anchored in the stream 
 rose answering music, the same words, the same 
 harmony, the same faith. Those condemned, on 
 their way to suffering and torture, sang the same 
 hymn and in the same spirit as those waiting to be 
 condemned and tarrying a little longer for the 
 chain. And as the children's music ascended to 
 heaven that wonderful music of the white races, 
 of Europe, of Christianity the scarlet died from 
 the west, a light, like molten emeralds, spread over
 
 SLAVERY OR DEATH? 229 
 
 the roofs of the city, splashes of gliding violet 
 appeared in the darkening water, lamps shone 
 from the walls and in the windows of the shadowy 
 houses, and a crescent moon rose golden and 
 strangely massive above the sombre branches of the 
 silent palms. 
 
 The music did not cease on board the ship till 
 the boats were out of sight and hearing. Then 
 Hildebert kneeled on the deck, and the hundreds of 
 children still left kneeled at his side, and with one 
 voice, under the glory of those Eastern skies, they 
 prayed : ' Our Father, which art in heaven, 
 hallowed be Thy Name . . .' 
 
 Gaspard in the captain's cabin had been pre- 
 paring Falaise for the worst of all their fears. He 
 said to her at last, ' I suspect treachery. We shall 
 be sold into slavery at Cairo. Nothing, I am sure, 
 can save us.' He paused, took her hand, regarded 
 her earnestly, and said, ' Be faithful to your vows 
 to-night.' 
 
 She shuddered. 
 
 ' Gaspard, I dare not. I am not afraid of slavery ; 
 but I fear to die. Don't ask me. Let me be like 
 Hildebert ; let me ' 
 
 ' You are a girl,' he interrupted. 
 
 ' It may be God's Will with me ' 
 
 ' That is blasphemy. No. Never think such 
 thoughts of God. Drive them from your soul while 
 it is yet innocent. We know little of God, but at
 
 230 SLAVERY OR DEATH? 
 
 least we know that He does not send what is worse 
 than death. Falaise, save yourself. Escape from 
 Satan and hell. It will cause you not a moment's 
 pain. Look at this man ; you will fall asleep ; 
 you will become like him ; and then quietly your 
 soul will pass into a better world.' 
 
 ' But it is wicked to take one's life,' she said 
 weakly, wretchedly. 
 
 Perhaps she felt that this was true ; perhaps, 
 also, she had reflected on what the sailor said to her 
 in jest, and had already dreamed romantic dreams 
 of slavery. She was very young, very beautiful, 
 and earnestness with her was not the character 
 itself but just a mood of the hour. 
 
 ' I implore you,' said Gaspard, ' to choose death 
 before the horror of such slavery as will surely be 
 your lot.' 
 
 His eyes were fixed upon her in judgment rather 
 than appeal. 
 
 * I prefer death,' she said hurriedly, ' but I dare 
 not take my life.' 
 
 ' Do you mean that ? ' 
 
 He rose to his feet and looked at her very search- 
 ingly. 
 
 ' Hildebert says that if God meant me to die He 
 would send the death.' 
 
 * Perhaps He does.' 
 
 ' If not, Hildebert says, I must bear whatever 
 happens to me.'
 
 SLAVERY OR DEATH? 231 
 
 Something in Gaspard's eyes terrified her. She 
 started back, her face blanched, her hands ex- 
 tended, her eyes staring in horror. ' Gaspard ! 
 Gaspard ! What are you going to do to me ? ' 
 she cried. 
 
 He seized her in his hands. ' I will be God's 
 agent ! ' he cried, between his teeth. She cried 
 wildly for help. His hands fastened round her neck. 
 She uttered one piercing shriek of terror. Then 
 she was silent. He drove her backward, pressing 
 at her throat. 
 
 The door burst open, and the sailor who was now 
 captain rushed in. He sprang upon Gaspard and 
 tore him away from Falaise, who fell to the ground 
 and lay motionless. Another sailor followed, and 
 another. 
 
 ' Get this boy into ropes,' cried the new captain. 
 * I've had enough of him. Murder was what we 
 found him at. Look at the girl yonder. Our richest 
 prize.' He swore a frightful oath. ' If he's killed 
 her I'll flay him alive ! " 
 
 He went to Falaise and leaned over her. ' The 
 young fiend,' he said fiercely, ' has put a black 
 necklace round her pretty throat with his fingers. 
 He shall smart for it ! ' 
 
 ' Is she dead ? ' asked one of the others. 
 
 * No ; she's living still.' 
 
 The sailors held Gaspard, and looked towards 
 Falaise.
 
 232 SLAVERY OR DEATH? 
 
 The man acting as captain fetched water and 
 dashed it into the face of the poor girl. She began 
 to revive. Presently she looked about her, and, 
 seeing Gaspard, uttered a faint cry of fear. The new 
 captain bade her be easy hi her mind, and went 
 outside the cabin. He returned quickly with three 
 sailors, carrying ropes. Gaspard was bound hand 
 and foot. 
 
 They flung him down and dragged him out of the 
 cabin and along the deck. The children were now 
 below. The deck was deserted. The sky was bright 
 with stars. Alexandria looked like a city of dreams 
 in the glamour of the moonlight. Gaspard was 
 roughly lifted to his feet, raised a few inches above 
 the level of the deck, and bound to the mast so 
 tightly that the ropes cut his arms and legs and 
 wounded his neck. 
 
 The sailors left him and went away. 
 
 In an hour's time the new captain came down 
 the deck, leading and supporting Falaise. He 
 stopped in front of Gaspard and said, ' Look, he 
 can do you no more harm ! Don't be afraid of him 
 any longer. We'll keep him like that till we get to 
 Cairo. And to-morrow we'll flog him to revenge the 
 bruise on your throat.' 
 
 Falaise regarded Gaspard with horror in her eyes. 
 She said no word to him, and turned her head aside, 
 and went forward, away from him. The seaman led 
 her to the hold where the huddled children were
 
 SLAVERY OR DEATH? 233 
 
 waiting for sleep, and then, leaving her, returned to 
 Gaspard. 
 
 ' So you murdered the captain as well,' he said, 
 smiling. ' Anyway, he's dead. We are going to 
 sew him up and drop him overboard, to-night, into 
 the Nile. Your services, Master Doctor, will not be 
 required any longer ! ' He laughed mockingly, 
 and slouched away. 
 
 Gaspard's strength held out till midnight. Then 
 his senses began to swim ; he was conscious of 
 intolerable agony ; he could not prevent himself 
 from groaning. 
 
 He was on the point of swooning when a figure 
 appeared on deck, creeping towards him in the 
 shadows. He watched its advance without interest, 
 without fear, without hope. 
 
 The form came close to him. It was Falaise. 
 
 ' Gaspard, what can I do for you ? ' 
 
 He opened his closing eyes, and looked at her, 
 groaning. The bruise about her throat was visible 
 in the moonlight. 
 
 ' Gaspard, can I save you ? ' She tried to un- 
 fasten the ropes. Her face was like death ; her 
 hands were trembling ; as she struggled with the 
 great knots she moaned and shivered. 
 
 He made an effort. ' Falaise/ he murmured, 
 ' save yourself ! Listen. Place your hand hi my 
 breast . . . take out what I carry there. Give the 
 picture to Hildebert ; tell him to keep it for me,
 
 234 SLAVERY OR DEATH? 
 
 and the instruments ; but don't tell him about me. 
 Show me the phials close to my face ; I can't see. 
 There ! that one ! let me look again yes, that 
 one. Be careful of it. Give the rest to Hildebert. 
 But that one, for you. Drink quickly it is your 
 one hope.' 
 
 ' But you, Gaspard ! They will flog you ! ' 
 
 ' I must live. I promised our mother. While 
 Hildebert is alive I must live.' He groaned in 
 his agony, and the cold sweat ran down his 
 forehead. 
 
 She said to him, ' Wait, I will return.' 
 
 He closed his eyes. 
 
 When she came back she had to touch him with 
 her hands to rouse him from his stupor. ' I have 
 given the things to Hildebert,' she whispered, ' but 
 I have not told him. Gaspard, I am going to die 
 to-night. You are right. God never sends such 
 torture. It is His Will that I should die. But oh, 
 Gaspard, if I could save you first ! I have brought 
 all this suffering upon you. Gaspard, forgive me ; 
 say you forgive me ! ' 
 
 The agony in his eyes was dulled by tears. 
 
 ' I never loved you so much as now,' he mur- 
 mured. ' Little Falaise ! Dear little Falaise ! ' 
 
 She raised herself up and kissed him, and burst 
 into tears on his breast. 
 
 When she raised herself she saw that he had 
 fainted. For a moment she hesitated. Then she ran
 
 SLAVERY OR DEATH? 235 
 
 along the decks, and rushed towards the captain's 
 cabin. As she reached it the door opened and three 
 sailors staggered out bearing between them some- 
 thing long and heavy sewn into a sail. She knew 
 it to be a corpse, and uttered a cry and reeled away 
 from them. The new captain, following behind 
 the seamen with their burden, sprang forward and 
 caught her before she fell. 
 
 ' What are you doing here ? ' he demanded. 
 
 ' My brother ! ' she gasped. ' He is dying ! 
 Save him ! Save him ! ' 
 
 His eyes were fastened upon the burden. 
 
 ' Wait ! ' he commanded, and strode towards the 
 other men. They whispered together for a moment 
 and then baring their heads, kneeled down on the 
 deck, and uttered a prayer. The moonlight shone 
 upon their bowed heads and upon the body in its 
 shroud. They had themselves murdered the captain, 
 but before dropping his corpse into the river they 
 felt that they must pray for the repose of his 
 soul. 
 
 The body was lifted, swung to and fro, and then 
 hurled overboard. While the splash was sounding 
 the men laughed among themselves and made 
 coarse jokes concerning him for whose soul they 
 had prayed but a moment ago. Then they re- 
 turned to the cabin for drink, laughing and well 
 pleased. 
 
 The chief murderer came to Falaise, the man who
 
 236 SLAVERY OR DEATH? 
 
 was now full captain of the ship, and whose plans 
 were laid to take all the profits of the slave- 
 dealing. 
 
 ' Come along, my pretty bird,' he said cheerfully. 
 ' We'll have a look at this precious brother of 
 yours.' 
 
 Falaise clung to the man. She was trembling 
 like a leaf. ' Promise me, promise me ! ' she cried. 
 
 ' What ? ' He looked at her tenderly. 
 
 ' Not to flog him. I love him. He is my brother. 
 He only tried to kill me because he did not want me 
 to be a slave. Oh, do promise me ! ' 
 
 ' What will you give me ? ' 
 
 ' Anything.' 
 
 * Anything ! ' He laughed. ' Well, you're just 
 the little lass to make a sailor's wife. I'll take you 
 back to France, and marry you in the church of 
 Our Lady, and you shall live on the hill, where you 
 can watch for my ship. What do you say ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, do promise me ! ' 
 
 " Well, give me a kiss to begin with ! ' 
 
 She flung herself upon him, and kissed his face 
 and lifted his hands and kissed them, weeping half 
 with joy and half with fear. 
 
 ' That's a promise, then,' he said. ' We've 
 plighted troth. You are going back to France to be 
 my wife.' 
 
 ' Oh, save us all ! ' she cried. ' Save me, save 
 my brothers, save the rest ! Take us home again.
 
 SLAVERY OR DEATH? 237 
 
 For God's sake. Save your soul. Do an act of 
 mercy. Don't sell us into slavery ! ' 
 
 ' Hush ! my pretty bird ! ' He looked back 
 anxiously over his shoulder, towards the cabin 
 where the sailors were drinking. ' We'll talk about 
 this in secret, you and I, when the others are asleep. 
 In the meantime, let us have a look at your brother.' 
 He walked down the deck with his arm round her 
 waist, holding her to him, tightly, sometimes 
 stooping to kiss her hair. ' You are just the little 
 wife for a sailor,' he said. ' I am well content. 
 Things have shaped finely for me this voyage. 
 I have got a ship and a wife. We will be rich and 
 happy.' 
 
 They found Gaspard still in a swoon. 
 
 The captain pulled a baulk of timber towards the 
 mast, and placed it under Gaspard's feet. ' There ! 
 that will make it easier for him. It will take the 
 weight off him.' 
 
 Falaise pleaded for the ropes to be unfastened. 
 
 ' We'll do that to-morrow,' said the captain. 
 
 ' But he will die ! ' 
 
 ' No ; he'll come round in a minute.' 
 
 ' You promise me ! ' 
 
 ' Now, little wife, begin by obeying your hus- 
 band ! ' 
 
 She seized him and held him. ' Let him go ! Let 
 my brother go ! Save him ! ' 
 
 ' To-morrow.'
 
 238 SLAVERY OR DEATH? 
 
 ' Now ! ' 
 
 ' No ; he's not safe ; I can't trust him.' 
 
 She looked wildly about her. ' You won't flog 
 him? ' 
 
 ' It depends. I don't think so.' 
 
 ' But you promised ! ' 
 
 ' You must trust your husband.' 
 
 ' I say, you must set him free ; you shall set him 
 free. He is my brother, and I love him.' 
 
 Her insistence angered the man. He caught her 
 wrist. ' Don't forget,' he said, ' that I am your 
 master as well as your future husband. Why, I 
 can sell you for a slave to-morrow, or I can this very 
 night flog you like a dog, or I can string you up to 
 the mast, or I can give you wine and good food and 
 kiss you as my little wife that is to be. I am a man 
 who is kind or cruel according as people treat me. 
 Take care, then, for I stand no nonsense.' 
 
 For a moment her terrified soul looked into the 
 dreadful eyes of the man who held her. She saw 
 by the light of the stars that he was cunning, brutal, 
 soulless. It became clear hi a moment that she 
 could not trust him. He was capable of all treachery 
 and deceit, all cruelty and baseness. Nothing to 
 him was either sacred or holy. 
 
 With a cry of horror and a sudden energy of spirit 
 she freed herself from the man's hold, pushed him 
 backwards, and sped away. 
 
 He recovered himself, muttered an oath, and gave
 
 SLAVERY OR DEATH ? 239 
 
 chase. There was no love in his heart for this girl ; 
 he had never intended to keep his word ; but she 
 was valuable stuff, she would sell for a great price, 
 and he did not intend to lose her. Falaise, frightened 
 like a deer, was fleeing from a man who sought 
 her for the money she would fetch in the slave 
 market. 
 
 The moonlight revealed these two figures, the 
 hunter and the hunted, running down the deserted 
 decks. One was a pure child, the other a murderer. 
 As she sped here and there, gasping in her terror 
 and yet clear in the vision of her soul, the sound of 
 Arabs singing in the bazaars of the city came across 
 the rustling waters. She heard them singing, she 
 heard the voices of the drunken sailors in the cabin, 
 and she heard the breathing of her pursuer, hot 
 behind her. She was conscious of everything 
 of the moon, the stars, the flowing river, the domes 
 and towers of the city, the voices, and the murmur 
 of the wind. She was conscious of all this. She 
 was also conscious of God. 
 
 One thought suddenly flashed across her deter- 
 mined mind, which was perhaps the last movement 
 of that egoism and vanity in her character which 
 were the only real faults of her nature. In the very 
 height of her exalted purpose, the distracted girl 
 thought to herself, ' If Gaspard could but see and 
 know what I am now about to do ! ' 
 
 She wanted a spectator, she wanted an audience,
 
 240 SLAVERY OR DEATH? 
 
 she wanted applause, even in her passage to 
 eternity. 
 
 This was the thought, the only thought in her 
 mind, as the poor girl sprang at the rail of the ship, 
 flung herself over, and was borne by the great river 
 swiftly towards the quiet sea.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 THE MARKET 
 
 EARLY on the following day, just before the 
 tide turned, and the sailors prepared for the 
 last stage of their voyage, Gaspard was taken down 
 from the mast, and his clothes stripped off his body. 
 Then he was slung up spread-eagle to the rigging, 
 and most brutally flogged with the rope's end. When 
 they unfastened the ropes he fell like a garment to 
 the deck, but he did not utter a cry and he had not 
 swooned under the torture. 
 
 Salt was rubbed into his frightful wounds, and 
 he was thrown naked into the ' black hole ' of the 
 ship, without food and without water. All this took 
 place while the children were sleeping, and ere the 
 sun had appeared above the horizon. 
 
 When the ship was approaching Cairo, he was 
 brought up from this dungeon and his clothes 
 restored to him. The captain bade him dress 
 quickly and stand firmly, or he would be flogged 
 again. ' If you don't fetch a good price,' said this 
 monster, with a bitter laugh, ' I'll keep you aboard, 
 and flog you all the way to France.' 
 
 R 241
 
 242 THE MARKET 
 
 Hildebert, who could not understand the absence 
 of Gaspard and Falaise, caught sight of his wretched 
 brother as he stood naked on the deck, and ran 
 towards him with tears in his eyes. 
 
 ' Oh, Gaspard, what has happened to you ? What 
 have they done to you ? ' he cried, clasping his hands 
 in horror. 
 
 Some of the other children saw the naked Gaspard, 
 saw the ghastly wounds on his flesh, and came 
 forward, timidly, crowding at Hildebert's side. 
 
 Gaspard looked at Hildebert. ' There is no God ! ' 
 he said bitterly, but in a weak voice. 
 
 ' Gaspard ! Do not say such an awful thing ! ' 
 cried Hildebert in an agony of horror. ' But 
 what have they done to you ? Why did they torture 
 you ? Oh, I am so sorry, Gaspard ! I would have 
 gladly borne it in your stead. Poor Gaspard ! Poor 
 Gaspard ! ' 
 
 Gaspard looked at him again. ' There is no God ! ' 
 he said in a stronger voice. 
 
 The other children began to weep and to wail. 
 
 Hildebert came close to his brother. ' The saints 
 suffered for God ! ' he cried earnestly. ' Be brave, 
 dear Gaspard. It is only for a little time. And after 
 this life we shall be with the saints, and we shall 
 understand, and God will restore all things a 
 hundredfold.' 
 
 Gaspard stooped to pick up his clothes, but 
 staggered, and would have fallen if Hildebert had
 
 THE MARKET 243 
 
 not caught him. The agony of this movement was so 
 great that the sweat poured out of his skin, and he 
 gnashed his teeth together, groaning and cursing. 
 
 Hildebert burst into tears. 
 
 ' Falaise gave you my phials ? ' asked Gaspard, 
 panting in his pain and hi his weakness. 
 
 'Yes.' 
 
 ' Let me see them.' 
 
 He selected one, drank, and after a moment 
 seemed to recover his strength. Hildebert lifted 
 his clothes and helped him to dress. 
 
 ' Where is Falaise ? ' asked Gaspard. 
 
 ' I do not know.' 
 
 Gaspard thought. Then he remembered. ' Is she 
 living or dead ? ' 
 
 ' Dead ? ' cried Hildebert. He looked about him 
 wildly. ' Why should she be dead ? What makes 
 you ask ? ' 
 
 ' Is she not on the ship ? ' 
 
 ' I have looked for her, but I cannot find her.' 
 
 ' Go and ask the sailors.' 
 
 Hildebert came running back. ' Gaspard ! Gas- 
 pard ! ' His eyes were full of tears. 
 
 ' Ah ! ' cried Gaspard, with something of a smile. 
 ' Then it is good news ! ' 
 
 Hildebert was wringing his hands. ' She jumped 
 overboard in the night ! She is dead ! She was 
 afraid to be a slave ! Poor Falaise, sweet Falaise, 
 she is dead ! We shall never see her again. Oh,
 
 244 THE MARKET 
 
 Gaspard, I loved her so, and she is dead ! Poor 
 Falaise, sweet Falaise, our darling Falaise ! ' 
 
 ' Thank God ! ' cried Gaspard. * Now do I love 
 her with all my soul, and now does my faith come 
 back to me a little. Perhaps, perhaps, Hildebert, 
 there is a God. Not your God ; not the God who 
 sells children into slavery, not a God who desires 
 pain and agony, not a God who ordains that 
 innocence should suffer and faith be broken on a 
 wheel of blood ; not that God. No ! But a Power 
 that acts at the last moment when we have abused 
 our reason and blundered to the verge of ruin. 
 Perhaps there is such a God.' 
 
 A party of sailors appeared. 
 
 One of them said, ' Now, then, young skulker, 
 hurry your dressing, d'you hear ? or you'll get the 
 rope's end for breakfast. You others, form up on 
 the starboard quarter. Be off with you, quick.' 
 He drove them away, like lambs. 
 
 One of the other sailors helped Gaspard to dress. 
 
 The ship had reached Cairo. 
 
 In less than an hour's time the children were 
 transferred to the shore, amidst the mockery and 
 execration of an immense multitude. They were 
 marched ill a body to the slave market, and like 
 animals were there inspected with excitement and 
 glee by a crowding and quarrelling multitude of 
 dealers. Hildebert was too shaken by the death of 
 Falaise to sing. The courage of the other children
 
 THE MARKET 245 
 
 had evaporated. Huddled together, these unhappy 
 Christians stood in silence and terror, the sun blazing 
 upon them, awaiting their doom. 
 
 Gaspard managed to keep near Hildebert. He 
 foresaw that the great difficulty of his enterprise 
 had now arisen. If his oath to his mother were 
 to be kept, it was essential that he and Hildebert 
 should be sold to the same master. 
 
 A slave-dealer appeared upon the scene, before 
 whom the others gave way. He was keen-eyed, and 
 hook-nosed, with a long and cruel mouth. This 
 man was the agent of the Sultan. He passed over 
 Hildebert, who was slight and delicate, but examined 
 Gaspard carefully. The keen eyes and the munching 
 lips of this man sickened Gaspard and filled Hilde- 
 bert with terror. The little fellow clung to his 
 brother and whispered, ' Don't let him take you ! 
 He is cruel. I am frightened of him.' But for the 
 flogging and the long agony of his exposure Gaspard 
 would surely have been purchased by this frightful 
 person. As it was, the pressure of Hildebert had 
 caused him so exquisite an agony that, wincing and 
 paling visibly before the eyes of the dealer, he looked 
 even more broken and deathly than before. He was 
 passed over. 
 
 When the Sultan's agent had finished his inspec- 
 tion and made his choice, the other dealers moved 
 quickly and eagerly among the children, selecting 
 groups of them, and dividing them into separate
 
 246 THE MARKET 
 
 companies. All this was done hurriedly, brutally, 
 and with a rough carelessness. Hildebert was 
 dragged away from Gaspard, but directly his 
 purchaser had let go of him he stooped down, slid 
 away, and joined Gaspard in another group. This 
 movement was undetected. 
 
 The air was now filled with a deafening clamour. 
 It arose over the price of these Christian children. 
 Money was about to pass, and money is a serious 
 thing. These hucksters of human life were like dogs 
 fighting for a bone. At every moment it seemed 
 as if they must come to blows. The chewing and 
 spitting populace, thronging them in a confused 
 multitude, took vigorous sides in their disputes. 
 The air rang with yells, screeches, and screams. 
 Arms were lifted, and fists shaken. The black faces 
 were contorted with passion and ferocity. 
 
 Hildebert clung to Gaspard. 
 
 When the prices were settled, the children were 
 driven off in droves. Gaspard and Hildebert were 
 together, and they clasped hands and exchanged 
 looks of gratitude. By a miracle they had not been 
 parted. By a miracle they were still together. But 
 they were of a company destined for fresh bargain- 
 ing. 
 
 They were marched to a courtyard, and there, 
 after an hour's wait, they were more leisurely in- 
 spected, more carefully sorted. 
 
 A venerable old man with handsome tnrban and
 
 THE MARKET 247 
 
 flowing beard examined the children with the 
 benignity of a tender-hearted patriarch. He spoke 
 French, and addressed questions to the children. 
 He desired to know whether they could read and 
 write, whether they were painters, jewellers, or 
 craftsmen of any kind. All these questions he 
 asked soothingly, often smiling, and sometimes 
 laying his hand upon the little heads, as if in blessing. 
 
 Gaspard and Hildebert were placed together with 
 some more of the children, and the others were 
 marched away. 
 
 Presently fresh batches of children were driven 
 into the courtyard, until the company numbered 
 forty. All these children could read and write, or 
 else were craftsmen and artists. Gaspard had the 
 satisfaction of knowing that he was still able to 
 keep his word to his mother. But for how long 
 would he and Hildebert be together ? 
 
 They were given a little food, and then, roped 
 together, they were marched into the streets. 
 
 Someone called to their guards, ' Whither ? ' 
 
 The answer was, * Bagdad.'
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 HOLY LAND 
 
 AS the party of forty Christian children passed 
 from the city of Cairo and, crossing the Nile, 
 entered the great desert of Sinai on the further side, 
 Gaspard was so sunk in thought, so concentrated on 
 a single reflection, that he neither heard the derisive 
 shouts of the populace nor felt the pain of his wounds. 
 It even escaped him to ask Hildebert for the minia- 
 ture of Isabel. 
 
 The single occupation of his mind was the thought 
 of Falaise. He recalled to his remembrance a 
 hundred incidents in her childhood. He brought 
 to his memory innumerable instances of her bright- 
 ness, her gaiety, her sweet tenderness, and her im- 
 pulsive affection. And all through these memories 
 there sounded in his soul, like the tolling of a great 
 bell, the single and awful thought that this bright 
 and beautiful young girl was dead. 
 
 Never more would she laugh ; never more would 
 she sing ; never more would her eyes flash happi- 
 ness ; never more would her lips flow with merri- 
 ment ; never more would she lift her hands to her 
 
 248
 
 HOLY LAND 249 
 
 pretty hair and smile upon the living world out of 
 eyes that were self-conscious of their beauty. 
 
 In the night which had just passed, all the mystery 
 that made Falaise Falaise had ceased to be. A 
 silence had fallen upon her. Stillness had frozen 
 her to stone. On that eager and vivacious young life 
 the curtain of death had suddenly descended. Her 
 beauty and her joy were blotted out for ever. 
 
 He did not regret the suggestion he had made to 
 her ; he did not think it would be better for her if 
 she still lived ; but the thought that she had utterly 
 ceased to be hung upon his soul like a heavy 
 chain. 
 
 Night came, and as he fell asleep on the desert, 
 Falaise came from the shadows to haunt his dreams. 
 At daybreak he woke in great pain. The guards 
 were already up. Some were rousing the other 
 children, and some were kneeling in the sand, saying 
 their prayers. 
 
 Hildebert said to him, ' We, too, must pray,' and 
 fell upon his knees. 
 
 They were given a little food, and soon afterwards 
 the march began. 
 
 As they moved across the desert, Hildebert said to 
 Gaspard, ' When these Arabs pray, do they love God 
 and long to behold His Presence ? ' 
 
 Gaspard answered, ' Allah is to them what God is 
 to us ; and they understand the Eternal as much 
 and as little as we do.'
 
 250 HOLY LAND 
 
 ' But if they love God why do they sell us into 
 slavery ? ' 
 
 ' And if we love God,' replied Gaspard, ' why 
 do we kill the Mussulmans and massacre the Jews ? 
 It is the way with all religious people. Men love 
 their religions more than humanity.' 
 
 Hildebert was about to defend Christians eagerly, 
 when he stopped at the first words of his defence. 
 Instead, very slowly and thoughtfully, he replied, 
 ' Christ's religion was the love of humanity.' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Gaspard. 
 
 ' We ought to love these men,' said Hildebert. 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 ' It was wrong of us to take swords and spears, 
 and to long to fight the Saracen in Holy Land. 
 Stephen was called, but he did not understand the 
 call. God is now gently leading us in the right way. 
 I think I begin to see the truth, and it is more 
 beautiful than the dream.' 
 
 The guards were not unkind to them. They 
 halted whenever the children were badly tired, and 
 showed them kindness when the sun was overpower- 
 ing in its heat. Among the guards was a handsome 
 young Arab who could speak French. He asked 
 the children various questions and translated the 
 answers for the benefit of his fellows. They were 
 curious about the Crusade, and amused by the 
 children's seriousness. 
 
 One day Hildebert said to this Arab, ' We were
 
 HOLY LAND 251 
 
 wrong to wish to kill you, and so God has suffered us 
 to become slaves. He did not mean that we should 
 go up against you with swords and spears. He 
 meant us to come as preachers of His word. Jesus 
 did not summon legions of angels to fight for Him. 
 He loved His enemies. And we were sinful when 
 we forgot our Saviour's example, and followed the 
 example of wicked men. All the crusades have 
 failed because the crusaders did not follow the 
 example of Jesus. God is not mocked. But 
 Christendom is rebuked.' 
 
 This astonishing speech of the beautiful child was 
 translated to the other Arabs, and caused immense 
 excitement. It was the hour of the evening bivouac. 
 The five camels that accompanied the expedition 
 were lying in the sand ; the tents were erected ; 
 the sun had departed ; stars shone with & pale lustre 
 in the darkening sky; as far as eye could see the 
 fawn-coloured desert stretched away in undulating 
 gentleness. 
 
 The Arab turned at last to Hildebert and said, 
 ' You Christians do not obey Him whose Name 
 must never be uttered except with reverence. Our 
 prophet acknowledged Him as One from God. But 
 you make Him One from Satan, even when you call 
 Him God Himself. Look, how you fill your churches 
 with idols ; look, how you make God Three, not 
 One ; look, how your priests wring money from the 
 poor and array themselves in splendour ; look, too,
 
 252 HOLY LAND 
 
 how you fight with each other and make cruel war 
 upon the nations of the earth. Your prophet was 
 holy and pure ; but you Christians are like dogs 
 you bark in His Name, but you bite in the devil's.' 
 
 Hildebert considered these words for a long time, 
 and the Arab watched him curiously. The other 
 Arabs, sitting at a little distance, also watched the 
 beautiful boy, who was so like an angel even in their 
 eyes. 
 
 At last Hildebert said, * We may be wicked, and 
 we may make mistakes, but we acknowledge Christ 
 as the Son of God. He died for our sins. By His 
 precious Blood we are cleansed from unrighteous- 
 ness. But you deny Christ. You say He was not 
 the Son of God. You will not let Him save you from 
 your sins.' 
 
 The Arab's eyes flashed. He leaned forward and 
 put a hand on Hildebert 's arm. ' You do not live as 
 He told you to live,' he said sternly ; ' how, then, 
 should you understand what He taught ? Listen, He 
 said there was One God ; you say there are Three. 
 Listen, He commanded you to pray to the One True 
 God ; you pray to angels, to saints, and to a woman. 
 Listen, He taught what our father Moses taught, 
 that it is sinful to make graven images ; but you 
 fill your churches with these idols and bow down to 
 them and pray to them. Little son, if you so disobey 
 the law, how can you understand the Law-Giver ? ' 
 
 He laughed, and, not waiting for Hildebert's reply,
 
 HOLY LAND 253 
 
 turned eagerly to the other Arabs and told them with 
 triumph what he had said. They listened gravely, 
 nodded their heads approvingly, and regarded Hilde- 
 bert with sorrowful eyes in which there was neither 
 malice nor scorn. 
 
 Thus marching and resting, the guards and their 
 prisoners crossed the desert and entered Palestine. 
 When the children suddenly realised that they were 
 really and truly in Holy Land for they had no idea 
 that their journey led through Palestine they were 
 filled with wonder and an almost paralysing rever- 
 ence. The dull despair which had weighed upon 
 their minds fell away, the torpor depressing their 
 souls lifted, a flood of joy swept through their veins. 
 
 Hildebert cried to the friendly guard asking that 
 they might halt a moment for prayer, and this 
 request was granted with a dignified courtesy. The 
 children fell upon their knees, even Gaspard follow- 
 ing their example, and, with hands folded and faces 
 lifted to the blue heaven, they prayed, each one in 
 the silence of his soul, to the God of Christendom. 
 
 While Gaspard prayed, he saw with the mind's 
 eye a dark house with a woman standing in the 
 doorway who regarded him anxiously. He remem- 
 bered Isabeau, and prayed for the peace of her soul. 
 As the petition framed itself, the woman's face 
 faded and grew mistlike, and became presently like 
 a distant lamp hung in the midst of darkness. A 
 sigh broke from Gaspard's lips. 'I am looking,'
 
 254 HOLY LAND 
 
 he told himself, ' at Eternity, for Eternity is a big 
 word for a little distant lamp that shines in the 
 night of our ignorance.' 
 
 When they rose Hildebert was the first to speak. 
 ' God,' he cried, with shining face and rapturous 
 eyes, ' has heard our cry ! Slaves we are, and roped 
 together like cattle, but our feet are in Holy Land ; 
 we breathe the very air of the exquisite dear Jesus, 
 and our eyes behold the sacred land where our 
 most loving Saviour was born in a manger. Let us 
 not despair. Let us not be sad. Let us not murmur 
 against God, like the Israelites of old. No ; let us 
 be like Him who laid down his life for us here in 
 Palestine. Let us be meek and lowly. Let us be 
 kind to those who hate us, and gentle to those who 
 would do us injury. Thus shall we conquer. Thus 
 shall we take up the cross of Jesus. Thus shall we 
 show Him how greatly, oh, how greatly we love 
 Him ! Think ! We are in Holy Land, in Holy 
 Land ! All the lovely words of Jesus were said, all 
 His beautiful deeds were done, all His sacred and 
 awful griefs, pains, agonies endured, here, here 
 where we stand ! Let us be true to Him. We must 
 give thanks to God, and love Him with all our souls, 
 and seek to do His Will. He has brought us to Holy 
 Land. By His mercy we are here. And we are here 
 because we can serve Him. Let us rejoice, let us 
 give thanks, and let us seek by our lives and by our 
 speech to hasten the triumph of His Kingdom ! '
 
 HOLY LAND 255 
 
 These words, passionately delivered, and magic 
 with the whole force of Hildebert's genius, quickened 
 the already lively emotion of the captives into a 
 veritable enthusiasm. They lifted their faces to 
 heaven, and broke into ecstatic song. All save 
 Gaspard, whose eyes were full of tears. Sweetly 
 sounded those treble voices in the morning air 
 
 Jesus Christ, repair our loss, 
 Unto us restore Thy cross 
 
 so sweetly that the Arabs did not rebuke them, 
 did not mock even among themselves. 
 
 But there were others in Palestine who did not 
 share this reverence of the guards, and as the children 
 marched through Holy Land they were followed 
 by hordes of loathsome creatures who laughed at 
 them, railed against them, threw dust and stones 
 at them, and would have torn them to pieces but 
 for the protection of the guards. 
 
 Thus the poor little prisoners passed through 
 Jerusalem and through Nazareth, and the beauty 
 of those places was marred for them by the mockery 
 of the multitude, and all their natural emotion at 
 beholding those sacred scenes was clashed and put to 
 discord by the yellings of the mob and the brutalities 
 of the inhabitants. It was difficult even for Hilde- 
 bert to think that love could win against such 
 hateful malice and such furious antagonism. It 
 was difficult for all, even for Gaspard, not to long
 
 256 HOLY LAND 
 
 for the sword of the crusader. Wretched, footsore, 
 feverish, and frightened, the forty children of Christ 
 passed through the land of His most lovely life, and 
 came at last, broken and despairing, to the city of 
 Damascus.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 PARTED 
 
 ALL courage and all hope died out of the hearts 
 of the children as they left Damascus behind 
 them and marched across the terrible desert which 
 stretches from Syria to Mesopotamia. The sun 
 maddened them ; the sand blinded them. They 
 did not murmur against God, but they could not 
 sing to Him. They did not lose faith, but they 
 could not pray. 
 
 Wretchedly, most wretchedly, did they drag their 
 feet across that burning waste of Syria, and when 
 the Euphrates was reached there was scarcely one 
 of them who could have gone a league further 
 without falling dead on the sand. 
 
 They were placed in boats, and the long journey 
 down the great river refreshed them sufficiently 
 for the rest of their pilgrimage. They crossed the 
 plain, and arrived in Bagdad with their courage 
 somewhat restored and their hope almost quickened 
 once again into earnest faith. 
 
 The great and splendid city of the Caliph filled 
 s 257
 
 258 PARTED 
 
 them with amazement. The rivers and orchards 
 surrounding it were like fairyland, and the palaces 
 and pavilions, with their many domes and glittering 
 balconies, rose from this kindly earth with dreamlike 
 beauty to a sky so pure and tranquil that it was 
 ravishment to behold it, ravishment to breathe that 
 perfect air of heaven. Mosques, caravanserais, 
 kiosks, colleges, and royal palaces bewildered the 
 eyes with their beauty. The scented gardens rang 
 with the singing of birds. The broad streets and 
 handsome squares were thronged by a vast multitude 
 dressed in gorgeous stuffs and many-coloured rai- 
 ment. Students from every eastern country swelled 
 the crowds in the city ; merchants from every 
 climate jostled each other in the streets ; soldiers 
 in superb dresses rode by on Arab horses ; elephants, 
 camels, zebras, and mules moved among the crowds ; 
 and from the balconies of houses and from the 
 windows of the bazaars floated, with the heavy 
 perfume of the East, the music of harp and lute and 
 the singing of women. 
 
 It chanced at this time that there was a convoca- 
 tion of all the Saracen princes at Bagdad, summoned 
 thither to discuss with the great Caliph the affairs of 
 the Mohammedan world. The Children's Crusade 
 had been mentioned with contempt and amusement 
 by these mighty princes. When they heard that 
 forty of these very children were actually in Bagdad 
 they suggested that the Caliph should summon them
 
 PARTED 259 
 
 into his presence, if only for the sake of a moment's 
 merriment. The idea was acted upon. 
 
 Into the presence of the Caliph and the princes 
 the forty pilgrims were ushered by a retinue of 
 soldiers. Interpreters stood ready to obey the 
 Caliph's commands. Instruments of torture were 
 brought into the room. The soldiers stood guard 
 over the captives. 
 
 They were first questioned about the origin of the 
 crusade, the voyage across the sea, and their journey 
 to Bagdad. Then they were asked whether they 
 would abjure their faith. This question was put 
 first to Gaspard. 
 
 He replied, ' I cannot define my faith ; how, then, 
 can I abjure it ? ' 
 
 ' What do you believe ? ' he was asked. 
 
 ' I believe in a great Power, the Creator and 
 Spirit of all things ; but what He is, or how He 
 acts, I have no knowledge.' 
 
 This answer produced perplexity among the 
 princes. 
 
 He was asked after a moment whether he would 
 accept the faith of the Prophet and worship Allah. 
 
 ' I worship God,' he answered, ' and Allah is but 
 a name for God. As for your prophet, I know 
 nothing about him.' 
 
 He was passed over. 
 
 Hildebert was asked whether he would abjure 
 his faith.
 
 260 PARTED 
 
 ' I would rather die the death ! ' he replied, with 
 enthusiasm. ' I worship the great God, and I adore 
 the Holy Christ by whose death I am saved and in 
 whose resurrection I look for eternal life. Sirs, 
 there are many wicked Christians, but Christ is the 
 Son of God, and only by faith in Him can men be 
 saved.' 
 
 He was ordered to be tortured then and there. 
 The soldiers seized him, and he began to pray 
 quietly and sweetly to God, asking for courage and 
 beseeching forgiveness for those who ill-used him. 
 
 While he was racked, while his thumbs were 
 screwed, and while heated irons were applied to the 
 soles of his feet, the other children were examined, 
 and all of them refused to abjure their faith. In the 
 midst of this scene Gaspard broke out in a rage 
 against the Caliph. 
 
 ' Look at that child ! ' he exclaimed passionately, 
 pointing to Hildebert. ' Is Allah pleased by his 
 pain ? Does the sight of his agony give joy to the 
 angels in Paradise ? Why do you torture a little 
 child ? What for ? What is your reason ? Kill 
 him, if you fear him, slay him, if you think Allah 
 will bless you for the gift of his soul. But, by your 
 manhood, do not let him be tortured like the devils 
 in hell.' 
 
 A couple of soldiers seized Gaspard, and he was 
 forced to the rack, from which Hildebert had just 
 been lifted.
 
 PARTED 261 
 
 The scene that followed is too dreadful to describe. 
 Of the forty children, eighteen died of the ex- 
 cruciating tortures to which they were all alike 
 subjected, and the remaining twenty-two were 
 driven back to their owners, the slave dealers, more 
 dead than alive. Hildebert, the most delicate of all 
 those children, was the least injured by the torture 
 he had endured. 
 
 For three days the angry and indignant slave- 
 dealers tended them and used them with the 
 greatest consideration, anxious to get as much 
 money as possible for this remnant of their original 
 speculation. At the end of the three days they were 
 visited by various merchants and asked many 
 questions concerning their knowledge. Gaspard 
 was the first to find a master. He asked his pur- 
 chaser, through an interpreter, to buy Hildebert 
 as well, since they were brothers and could work 
 better together than alone. But while the purchaser 
 was listening to the translation of this question, an 
 old man in spectacles peering, dusty, and shabby 
 had been asking Hildebert questions about his skill 
 as an artist. Before Gaspard's buyer could speak 
 this old man had purchased Hildebert. 
 
 The brothers parted from each other with an agony 
 of grief. Not until that terrible moment, perhaps, 
 had either realised the depth of their brotherly 
 affection. Hildebert clung to Gaspard, and looked 
 up into his face with tears pouring from his eyes.
 
 262 PARTED 
 
 Gaspard did not weep ; but his face was ashen, his 
 lips trembled, he dared not trust himself to speak. 
 
 ' It is God's Will, Gaspard ! ' cried Hildebert. 
 ' We cannot understand it. It seems hard and 
 terrible. My heart feels as if it must break. Oh, 
 Gaspard, I could so much easier bear all things if 
 you were with me ! But we will trust God, won't 
 we ? We will pray to Him. We know it must have a 
 meaning.' 
 
 Gaspard laid his hands on his brother's shoulders 
 and looked at him long and tenderly. 
 
 ' Yes, it has a meaning,' he said heavily. 
 
 * I shall pray for you ; pray for me, Gaspard.' 
 
 Gaspard's eyes began to grow moist with tears. 
 ' Is this the end,' he said sadly, ' the end of our 
 life, that began so sweetly beside the Loire ? ' He 
 stopped. The tears overflowed. His whole body 
 was shaken by a convulsive sob. ' Ah, God ! ah, 
 God ! ' he exclaimed, and was silent. 
 
 A hand touched Hildebert's shoulder. 
 
 The old dusty man, peering through his spectacles 
 and smiling under his beard, nodded his head to 
 signify that his slave must come away. 
 
 The brothers embraced, and parted. 
 
 Hildebert carried with him into slavery the 
 miniature of Isabel for which Gaspard had for- 
 gotten to ask him.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 LIKE GASPARD 
 
 FIVE years after the parting of the two brothers 
 Gaspard had earned his freedom. His experi- 
 ences as a slave somewhat resembled the immortal 
 story of Joseph in Egypt. One may say that his 
 dream of fame which he had so often discussed with 
 Isabel beside the Loire had come to some reality. 
 
 His first master was an alchemist and astrologer 
 a superstitious man, and yet a genuine seeker of 
 knowledge. Among his disciples were three Euro- 
 pean students, beside Gaspard the slave a Spaniard, 
 a Savoyard, and a Fleming. He possessed a library 
 of rare manuscripts and was acquainted with the 
 most advanced sciences of East and West. From 
 the first day of his slavery Gaspard was treated with 
 consideration by this master, but the disciples 
 despised him as a slave, and the Spaniard marked 
 him down for an enemy. Six months had not gone by 
 when a false charge of stealing was brought against 
 him by this Spaniard ; he was flogged and put in 
 prison. During his imprisonment he performed a 
 small operation on one of his gaolers. The success 
 
 263
 
 264 LIKE GASPARD 
 
 of this operation reached the ears of the Governor, 
 whose favourite wife had lain for three months at 
 the door of death. He sent for Gaspard and con- 
 ducted him to the bedside of his wife. Gaspard 
 found that the beautiful young creature was suffering 
 from an internal abscess. He performed a dangerous 
 operation, and the woman recovered. 
 
 The Governor, more delighted by the health of his 
 wife than amazed by the miracle of the operation, 
 released Gaspard and made him his own slave. For 
 nearly four years he served this master faithfully 
 and well, instructing his children, and, as a surgeon, 
 earning so much fame in the city that on two 
 occasions he was summoned to the palace of the 
 Caliph. At the end of his five years' slavery, on 
 condition that he would never leave the city of 
 Bagdad, he was presented with his freedom and 
 became a professor in one of the colleges established 
 by the Caliph. 
 
 Gaspard would have been happy in this life 
 for he was free, occupied as he would be occupied, 
 and famous but for two griefs which incessantly 
 preyed upon his heart. One was the lack of Isabel, 
 the other ignorance of Hildebert's fate. 
 
 Ever since his release from prison he had spared 
 neither time nor patience to discover the where- 
 abouts of his brother. The Governor of the prison 
 had helped him, the great Caliph himself had given 
 orders for enquiries to be made ; but all in vain.
 
 LIKE GASPARD 265 
 
 Hildebert and three other children of the eighteen 
 had entirely disappeared. 
 
 The mystery of Hildebert preyed upon his whole 
 health. He was flattered by princes, honoured by 
 sages, worshipped by students from all parts of the 
 East ; soon his freedom would surely be restored 
 to him in fullness and some day he would be rich 
 beyond the dreams of avarice ; but he could not 
 rest for thinking of Hildebert the little brother 
 whom he had seen tortured and whom he loved with 
 the depth and strength and silence of his noble 
 nature. He grew sad, morose, and melancholy. 
 
 One day he was passing through the most crowded 
 of the city squares when he saw an old man 
 whose face at once struck him as strangely and in 
 some way terribly familiar. He could not at first 
 think where he had seen that old and withered face, 
 with its flowing beard, its thick spectacles, its 
 innumerable wrinkles ; but all at once it sprang to 
 his mind that this was the dealer who had purchased 
 Hildebert for his slave five years ago. 
 
 He approached him eagerly, and asked for inform- 
 ation of his brother. The old man laughed and 
 chuckled at the question ; hundreds, hundreds of 
 slaves, he said proudly, passed through his hands ; 
 he had dealings in Cairo, Damascus, Bagdad, 
 Teheran, Bokhara, Benares, Peshawur aU over the 
 world ; how, then, should he remember one little 
 French boy and^five^years ago, too !
 
 266 LIKE GASPARD 
 
 But the fact that Hildebert had been one of the 
 Children's Crusade helped him at last to dive with 
 some definite clue into the labyrinth of his memory. 
 He carried Gaspard to the caravanserai where he 
 was resting, and over a cup of coffee gradually 
 pieced together this and that, until he had arrived 
 at a conclusion. All the time that he was fumbling 
 with the past, this old man was secretly studying 
 Gaspard through those thick spectacles of his, and 
 considering what he could make out of him. 
 
 Every now and then he asked Gaspard a question 
 about himself, his position, his means, his ambitions 
 for the future. 
 
 At last he said, smoothing his dusty beard, ' I 
 think I know where your brother is ; but it would 
 cost much money, very much money, to buy his 
 freedom. He is far from here, far, very far. No one 
 could reach him save I myself ; no, no one in the 
 world. And it would cost, oh, a fortune to buy him. 
 Yes, a fortune. You see, he is clever. Yes, a very 
 clever craftsman. In fact, I should say that there 
 is no one in the whole East who is his equal. Now, 
 you are a great man here, a most honourable man, 
 but you possess little money. How, then, can you 
 hope to buy this great and precious craftsman ? ' 
 
 And so on, and so on. 
 
 He told Gaspard to come and see him on the 
 following day, and refused to say where Hildebert 
 was working, till he had thought things over.
 
 LIKE GASPARD 267 
 
 Next day, having discovered that Gaspard was 
 forbidden to leave the city, the old man told him the 
 truth. Hildebert was a slave in Benares. Pressed 
 to say at what trade Hildebert worked, the Arab 
 replied, ' He is an artist in stone.' 
 
 From this point he sought to find out what 
 Gaspard would pay for the release of his brother. 
 Gaspard answered in his turn that he must think 
 it over. 
 
 His mind was made up. Unable to trust the old 
 man, and too poor to find money for Hildebert's 
 purchase, he determined to escape from the city 
 and make his own way to Benares. In a week's time 
 his plans were completed. Able to speak Arabic 
 perfectly, and thoroughly acquainted with the 
 customs of the Mussulmans, he disguised himself 
 as an Arab, and, accompanied by a brave and 
 faithful servant whose life he had saved, set out 
 early one morning for the long journey across Persia 
 to the unknown land of India. 
 
 The risk was great. The old and wily slave- 
 dealer, missing him in Bagdad, would be sure to 
 inform the authorities whither he had journeyed. 
 Soldiers, mounted on swift horses, would soon lay 
 him by the heels for he and his servant were 
 mounted on camels and thus he would be igno- 
 miniously brought back to the city and either 
 thrown into prison or executed by the Caliph's 
 order.
 
 268 LIKE GASPARD 
 
 But Gaspard was strongly influenced by the 
 promise he had made to his mother. He could not 
 rest in his freedom while Hildebert was a slave. 
 Again and again as he urged his camel forward it 
 flashed through his mind that he might now escape 
 to Cairo and take ship for France, where Isabel 
 was waiting for him. But he put the tremendous 
 temptation from his soul. He was strangely con- 
 vinced that his life was consecrated to his brother. 
 His mother had said that he should be his brother's 
 shield. While Hildebert was a slave he knew that 
 he could never rest. 
 
 So Gaspard, the free man, rode forward at the 
 peril of his life to succour the little brother from 
 whose fanaticism had flowed his own misfortunes 
 and the total wreck of all his happiness. 
 
 After many weeks and innumerable adventures 
 which it would take us too long to relate he and hi 
 faithful servant arrived in the sacred city of Benares. 
 He discovered within two days of his advent the 
 whereabouts of Hildebert. 
 
 Hildebert, as the slave-dealer had said, was an 
 artist in stone. He was employed with hundreds 
 of other slaves by a famous worker in marble. For 
 over five years he had drawn the most elaborate 
 designs of flowers and birds, had chiselled these 
 designs in white marble, and had then filled the 
 sculpture with coloured marbles and precious stones. 
 But when Gaspard arrived in Benares the day of
 
 LIKE GASPARD 269 
 
 Hildebert's glory as a craftsman was on the wane. 
 The close and incessant work, the minuteness of 
 which is at once its beauty and its wonder, had 
 brought him to the verge of blindness. He had 
 lately ruined several pieces of splendid marble. 
 To rest his eyes, and to save if possible so useful an 
 artist, his master had sent him from the workshop 
 to the yard. When Gaspard first saw his brother 
 the poor youth was staggering under a block of stone, 
 cursed by the other slaves assisting him and flipped 
 with a cane by the Mussulman in charge of the 
 operation. 
 
 It was only by a tremendous effort that Gaspard 
 could keep back his tears. He stood in his Arab's 
 dress, the master of the works at his side, watching 
 his brother with so great a compassion and so infinite 
 a love, that his soul at that moment seemed as if it 
 would wrench itself clear of his body. 
 
 There was the little brother of his childhood, the 
 Hildebert of a thousand memories, the darling of 
 his mother, the adored idol of his father there, 
 staggering and stumbling under a great load, his 
 Eastern garments smothered in dust, his flesh worn 
 to the bone, his eyes dull with blindness, and all his 
 degradation and misery and ruin written in the 
 invisible letters of fate which proclaimed him a slave. 
 Looking upon his brother in the mason's yard, 
 Gaspard felt himself smitten with a very swoon and 
 nausea of grief.
 
 270 LIKE GASPARD 
 
 He had pretended to be an agent of the Caliph, 
 making enquiries as to a great and splendid mosque 
 just about to be erected in a suburb of Bagdad. 
 The marble worker was polite and obsequious. 
 
 ' That white boy,' said Gaspard the Arab, ' is 
 too slight for such work ; you are wasting good 
 material ; and look, his eyes are damaged.' 
 
 The marble worker told him Hildebert's history. 
 
 * I am something of a physician,' said Gaspard ; 
 ' let me look at his eyes.' 
 
 He trembled as Hildebert was brought to him. 
 
 The little brother was now a stripling, but wasted 
 to a shadow. His complexion had become dull, the 
 eyes had lost their lustre, the dark lashes were full of 
 powdered dust. He came shuffling towards Gaspard 
 in his shabby linen clothes, stumbling in his paces, 
 his hands feeling their way. And yet, in spite of all 
 the misery and waste of his condition, in spite of all 
 the tragedy and rum of his youth, there was that 
 same pure look of a radiant spirit hi the young face 
 which had made his childhood so adorable. 
 
 Gaspard said to him hi Arabic, speaking harshly, 
 ' Your eyes are dim, my brother.' 
 
 ' God is good,' answered Hildebert in the same 
 language ; ' I am well content.' 
 
 ' Allah is certainly good,' said Gaspard ; ' but 
 we must take care of our bodies.' 
 
 Hildebert smiled. ' What matters the body ? ' he 
 asked gently. ' Whether I be blind or see, whether
 
 LIKE GASPARD 271 
 
 I be deaf or hear, whether I be dumb or speak 
 always God is near, and always I see the face of 
 Christ and hear His voice. The body profits 
 nothing. The dwelh'ng-place of love is the soul.' 
 
 Gaspard's body was shaken by profound emotion. 
 The voice of his brother was so beautiful and search- 
 ing to his soul in its infinite pathos ; the tones had 
 not lost their sweetness, and time had given to that 
 gentle music of his spirit a calm, a depth, a steadfast 
 confidence which before had been lacking. Gaspard 
 was moved in every fibre of his being. He rested his 
 hands on Hildebert's shoulders, bowed his head, 
 pretending to examine his eyes, and for a moment 
 was silent, utterly unable to speak. ' Believest 
 thou, my brother,' he asked presently, ' in the 
 prophet of the Christians you, who are a slave, 
 you, who work for the true believers, you, whom 
 your Christ has deserted ? ' 
 
 Hildebert answered, ' I am not alone. All faith 
 in God is good. But faith in Christ is the most 
 beautiful, and therefore the most true. He does 
 not leave those who dearly love Him. Though I 
 am a slave He is with me always. Yea, my brother, 
 it is His Will that I am a slave, and thus I serve 
 Him and thus I wait for my freedom in Him alone.' 
 
 The marble worker laughed softly, ' This little 
 swine,' he said, ' is as gentle as a dove ; we let him 
 speak freely, for he says nothing harsh ; of the true 
 religion he speaks ever with respect, though he
 
 272 LIKE GASPARD 
 
 continues an infidel ; but for that, and the fact 
 that he is a good worker, I should have twisted the 
 tongue from his mouth years ago.' 
 
 Gaspard turned away. 
 
 ' Back to your work, infidel ! ' commanded the 
 master, and sidled after Gaspard. ' Are his eyes 
 curable, think you ? ' he asked eagerly. 
 
 Gaspard said to him, ' I have taken a fancy to that 
 child. The Caliph, my master, would rejoice to have 
 such a slave about him. He is nearly blind. Soon he 
 will be useless to you. Nothing, I think, can restore 
 his sight. Give him to me, I pray you, that I may 
 take him back with me to Bagdad.' 
 
 The master said, ' When the Caliph buys my work, 
 I will send him the boy for a price. But he cost 
 me much money. He is a clever worker.' 
 
 ' He will be blind in a year,' said Gaspard. 
 
 ' Still, he cost me much money.' 
 
 ' Let me take him now.' 
 
 The master laughed softly, ' When the Caliph 
 buys my marbles, he shall have the boy for a 
 price.' 
 
 Gaspard went away. 
 
 On the following day he returned, and after 
 talking of marbles with the master, made once more 
 his request for Hildebert. But the man was more 
 adamant than the marbles. 
 
 Then Gaspard, who had made his plans and saw 
 his road clear before his eyes, said to the man, ' Will
 
 LIKE GASPARD 273 
 
 you exchange him for another slave, one who is tall 
 and strong, to whom the lifting of those stones would 
 be a little thing, and one, moreover, who is cunning 
 in my own trade of physician ? ' 
 
 The master was well pleased with the offer. He 
 himself knew that the eyes fail at this work never 
 to regain their sight. A blind weakling in the yard 
 was of no service to him. They discussed details. 
 Gaspard promised to send him the slave that very 
 night. 
 
 ' Do you speak the little boy's language ? ' he 
 asked. 
 
 The master shook his head. 
 ' Of what nation is he ? ' 
 ' He is French.' 
 
 Gaspard talked a little longer, and then said he 
 would speak to the boy once more. 
 
 In Arabic he said to Hildebert, ' I speak your 
 language, albeit indifferently. Is it your will that I 
 give you instruction hi that tongue ? ' 
 
 ' I love my language,' answered Hildebert, ' and 
 it is many years since I heard it. Yes, I pray you, 
 speak to me in my language. But no instruction, 
 my brother, can draw me from the love of God.' 
 
 Then Gaspard said in French, slowly and as if 
 with difficulty, ' Lay restraint upon yourself and 
 be calm ; show no excitement at what I shall say 
 to you. I bring a message. Are you master of your 
 feelings ? Can you control yourself ? '
 
 274 LIKE GASPARD 
 
 ' Do you come from my brother ? ' asked Hilde- 
 bert, his voice trembling. 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 ' Is he well ? ' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 ' I need not have asked ! ' said Hildebert. ' Never- 
 theless, good is it, very good, to know that our 
 prayers have truly been in accordance with God's 
 holy Will.' 
 
 * So you have prayed for this brother ? ' 
 ' Always.' 
 
 * You are dear to him. He thinks of you often. 
 He knows too that you are dear to your mother 
 and would send you back to her. I am here for that 
 purpose. I am here to obtain your freedom.' 
 
 Hildebert's face shone. ' For that, too, I have 
 prayed to see my mother once again, before I am 
 blind.' 
 
 Then Gaspard told him that a slave would be 
 exchanged for him, that with this slave who came to 
 take his place would come a faithful Arab, one in 
 whom he could wholly trust. This Arab would go 
 with him to the coast, would find him a ship for 
 France, and would provide money for his journey. 
 
 ' All that you must do in return,' said Gaspard, 
 ' is to send him by your father a present of money.' 
 
 ' But my brother ? ' 
 
 ' He is happy.' 
 
 ' I would see him ! '
 
 LIKE GASPARD 275 
 
 * Nay, he is far from here.' 
 
 ' But will he not come home ? ' 
 
 ' He is happy. He works for a great potentate. 
 His life is easy. Nothing is hard or bitter. He does 
 not grieve that he must remain with the lord, his 
 master. One thing only he lacks, and with one 
 message he bade me charge you to those of your 
 house. He says that you possess a miniature which 
 is dear to him, and which he would fain have 
 restored to him.' 
 
 ' I carry it with me,' cried Hildebert eagerly. 
 4 Three things only I possess. The little red cross 
 which my mother made for me, the rosary which 
 she sent to my sister God rest her soul and the 
 picture which my brother desires.' He placed his 
 hand in his cloth, drew out the miniature, and gave 
 it to the Arab. 
 
 Gaspard regarded it with a most moving com- 
 posure. Not a muscle trembled in his whole body. 
 His eyelids did not blink. He looked at the picture 
 and that was all. But his soul was in agony. 
 
 Hildebert said to him, ' Did he send me a mes- 
 sage ? ' 
 
 ' He bade me charge you,' said Gaspard, looking 
 up from the picture, ' to give this same message to 
 his mother, to his father, and to the lady of this 
 picture, " I am happy : I am well : I am content ; 
 in heaven that which was denied on earth may 
 perhaps be fulfilled ; and always I shall love you.'*
 
 276 LIKE GASPARD 
 
 See, he wrote it down on this paper ! It is written 
 for the lady of the picture. Further he bade me say 
 that no one should grieve for him, since he lives in 
 honour and prospers at his work.' 
 
 ' You will see him soon ? ' asked Hildebert. 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 ' Tell him,' said the almost blind but still beautiful 
 boy, ' that I cannot love him more, nor pray for him 
 more earnestly, than I have ever done since we 
 parted many years ago ; but report to him that I 
 said this to you, It is like Gaspard to think of others. 
 Tell him these words, sir, when you give him the 
 picture.' 
 
 So the brothers parted for a second time, but now 
 without embraces, and without tears. 
 
 That night, brought by his faithful Arab servant, 
 Gaspard presented himself, as a European, before 
 the master of the marble works. 
 
 He never saw Hildebert again, but many times 
 hi the years ahead of him, bearing blocks of marble 
 on his shoulder, taunted by the other slaves, and 
 urged by the taskmaster with his cane, he saw the 
 vision of a distant lamp burning dimly in the midst 
 of a great blackness, and felt that it had light for 
 his soul.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 MUSTARD SEED 
 
 NOW there happened to Hildebert on his voyage 
 homeward a very happy and surprising en- 
 counter. He made friends with many of the people 
 on board ship, and, of course, the fact that he was 
 one of those who had set out with Stephen of Cloyes 
 for Holy Land rendered him a principal centre of 
 conversation. Merchants, students, and sailors 
 would congregate about him on deck, and he would 
 tell them stories of the Crusade, and answer questions 
 that they put to him concerning the heathen with 
 whom he had lived. 
 
 There was a young student travelling to Europe 
 who delighted in argument, and very often he would 
 amuse himself by seeking to destroy Hildebert's 
 faith. He would say that the religions of the world 
 were all equally false, and that it was absurd for 
 anyone to suppose that the particular religion to 
 which he was born had the special blessing of 
 Heaven. 
 
 One day he said to Hildebert, ' How can you 
 
 277
 
 278 MUSTARD SEED 
 
 believe any longer in your God, seeing that He 
 allowed so many innocent children who trusted Him 
 with their whole hearts to be sold into slavery ? 
 Do you tell us that such is the action of a good 
 God ? You say " He is our Father." Now, answer 
 me ; is such a thing the action of a loving 
 Father ? ' 
 
 The merchants and sailors surrounding Hildebert 
 looked at him anxiously for his answer. They 
 disliked the student. They felt that his scepticism 
 was wicked and dangerous. They even feared that 
 a man who thought so freely about religion might 
 bring their vessel to shipwreck. At the same time, 
 in the secrecy of their hearts, they acknowledged 
 the difficulty of his question. 
 
 Hildebert looked at the student, struggling to 
 see with his dim eyes the face of a man who did not 
 believe in God, and answered as follows : ' In the 
 first days of my slavery, brother, I thought as you 
 think now. It seemed to me impossible that a 
 good God would so mock children who trusted 
 in Him. I could not pray to Him. To think 
 about Him almost drove me mad. I felt myself 
 alone hi the world, alone in a cruel world where 
 the devil was stronger than God. For more 
 than a week I suffered agonies which were like the 
 dying of the soul. But gradually, brother, the 
 truth came to me. And the truth is this : God will 
 have nothing to do with the sword. Violence of any
 
 MUSTARD SEED 279 
 
 kind is hateful to God ; and conquest, because it is 
 a transitory thing, and a thing full of pride and 
 self -aggression, is not the method He chooses for 
 the establishment of His Kingdom. Jesus our Lord 
 was tempted to use force, but He withstood the 
 temptation. Instead of legions of angels, He planted 
 the grain of mustard seed. Instead of the sword, he 
 took a morsel of leaven. But we children, moved 
 by the Spirit of God to spread His truth, were 
 tempted and fell. We thought of conquering the 
 infidel. To us the infidel appeared, not a brother, 
 not a child of God, but an enemy. What could God 
 do when we rejected His way and chose for our- 
 selves ? If you thrust your hand into fire, is it 
 God's doing that you are burned ? If you drink 
 poison, is it God's action that you die ? Surely 
 it is your own doing. But God did not desert us. 
 Nay, even in our humiliation, hi our bitter wretched- 
 ness, in our chains and prisons, He manifested His 
 rightful way. For we learned to be modest and 
 gentle to the infidel, we saw that he, too, is in search 
 of God, and above everything else by our resigna- 
 tion, our prayers, and our kindness to those who ill- 
 treated us, we sowed the true seeds of the Christian 
 faith.' 
 
 He paused for a moment, and then, leaning 
 quietly forward, he laid a hand upon the arm of the 
 young student and added these words : ' Wherever 
 a little child sold into slavery was faithful to God,
 
 280 MUSTARD SEED 
 
 brother, there the Spirit of Christ moved among the 
 heathen. Who shall measure the growth of the 
 mustard seed, the working of the leaven, in the years 
 to come ? I think it is nearer God's way just to 
 touch the hearts of the heathen with the Spirit of 
 Christ's religion, even if the touch come from the 
 hand of a little child, than to destroy those heathen 
 by the sword or to force them into Christianity. 
 I look for no conquest of the world in the name of 
 Christ but for a gradual brotherhood of love among 
 all nations through the example of those who are 
 true children of His Kingdom.' 
 
 A certain merchant who heard this answer was 
 greatly impressed by Hildebert's faith, and he 
 sought to do him many services and was often in 
 his company, speaking to him of faith. This mer- 
 chant not only reverenced Hildebert, but he grew 
 every day more fond of the youth, until at last he 
 came to love him almost as a son. 
 
 It struck this good man to the heart, watching 
 the dim eyes of the beautiful youth, that he should 
 soon be blind, and he implored Hildebert not to 
 wait for a remedy until he arrived in France, but 
 to visit a hospital in Cairo where many people were 
 cured of grievous afflictions. 
 
 Hildebert for some time declared that he was 
 content to go blind, and assured the merchant that 
 God would grant him strength to bear the great 
 darkness. But the merchant argued eloquently
 
 MUSTARD SEED 281 
 
 that God intended us to use all means for our 
 health, and he so reminded Hildebert of Gaspard 
 by his insistence on the divinity of reason that at 
 last the boy yielded to his importunities. 
 
 When the ship lay off Cairo, Hildebert and this 
 merchant went ashore and made their way through 
 the crowded streets, filled with a dreadful rabble, 
 to the hospital of whose fame the merchant had 
 heard. 
 
 They were admitted by a porter, and conducted 
 to a clean white room overlooking a beautiful 
 garden, from the terrace of which a view could be 
 seen of the Nile. In the centre of the garden was 
 the statue of a woman in the garments of a Sister 
 of Mercy ; she was kneeling, and with her hands 
 clasped as if in prayer, her head slightly raised to 
 heaven, she was gazing towards the river. The 
 sun, breaking through the branches of dark trees, 
 made a glory round this kneeling figure. 
 
 The door opened, and a woman entered. 
 
 She was young and beautiful, dressed in a long 
 robe of dove-colour, with white linen over her 
 breast, a nun's hood of dove-colour over her head, 
 a bandeau of white linen on her brow. 
 
 She looked at the merchant, who advanced to 
 meet her, and asked in French what she could do 
 for him. While he was speaking she looked towards 
 Hildebert. 
 
 A strange fixed light came suddenly into her
 
 282 MUSTARD SEED 
 
 eyes. She raised her hands to her heart. For 
 a moment she swayed. Then she went swiftly 
 forward, and stood close to Hildebert, looking into 
 his eyes. 
 
 Hildebert was only aware of the presence of a 
 woman, a white woman dressed in religious garb. 
 He wrinkled his eyes to see her face, and with 
 all courtesy offered her the salutation of a Chris- 
 tian. 
 
 But at the next minute he found himself in the 
 embrace of this woman, felt himself half lifted from 
 his feet and strained to her bosom, felt her kisses 
 on his cheeks, and heard his name from her lips 
 his name, tenderly and passionately uttered with all 
 the yearning of a mother's love. 
 
 Then he knew that Falaise lived. Raising his 
 head, a smile of glory shining in his face, he cried 
 her name three times, holding her to him, kissing 
 her, the tears starting from his eyes. 
 
 The merchant was amazed and could not under- 
 stand what had happened. But when he was about 
 to withdraw in order that brother and sister might 
 be alone together, Falaise stopped him, and Hilde- 
 bert begged him to remain. 
 
 She conducted them to the garden, and in a cool 
 place they seated themselves, and there Falaise told 
 her wonderful story. 
 
 From the moment when Falaise threw herself 
 over the side of the ship she was conscious of some
 
 MUSTARD SEED 283 
 
 mysterious support, as though invisible arms held 
 her, guided her, and, as it were, embraced her ten- 
 derly. Yet she was conscious that these invisible 
 arms had difficulty in saving her, that they had to 
 contend against the laws of Nature, that they were 
 even sore put to it again and again to prevent her 
 from drowning. But she was nevertheless certain that 
 all would be well with her. She did not struggle. She 
 did not cry out. Once, when the water passed over her 
 face, she saw, in a sudden and instantaneous illumi- 
 nation, all the incidents of her life, from the very 
 dawn of infancy up to that moment when she 
 sprang from the ship. A feeling visited her heart, 
 sad and regretful, that she had not been of more 
 service to her mother, that she had not been 
 kinder to the poor and sorrowful, that she had not 
 loved the great Father of Heaven with a greater 
 devotion. Then a voice said in her ear, quite 
 distinctly 
 
 ' There is time yet ; be not anxious ; God is very 
 merciful.' 
 
 And from that moment, after a most beautiful 
 sensation of calm and tranquillity, she remembered 
 nothing till she found herself safe from the river. 
 
 She came to consciousness in the hut of a fisher- 
 man, far from the city of Cairo. The man, his wife, 
 and three little children were surrounding her when 
 she wakened. 
 
 Some days later she was placed in a boat and
 
 284 MUSTARD SEED 
 
 taken to Cairo. The man carried her to the house 
 of a rich Egyptian lady, and there left her. Falaise, 
 without knowing it, was a slave. The fisherman 
 had sold her for a very few coins. 
 
 But the Egyptian lady was a good woman who 
 worshipped one God and practised all the kindness 
 commanded by Mohammed. The fisherman might 
 have sold her to wicked men, but he feared God, 
 and would sell her only to one who was good. Thus 
 by the power of religion was Falaise saved from 
 calamity. The rich Egyptian was very gentle to 
 her and taught her the language of Egypt and 
 instructed her in the art of embroidery. 
 
 When Falaise could speak Egyptian, she told the 
 lady her story and asked that she might work for 
 the poor and sorrowful. The story made a great 
 impression on the lady's heart. ' Your God and my 
 God,' she said, ' though we call Him by a different 
 name, is the One true Father of the human race. 
 When I pray to Allah, and when you pray to God, 
 it is the same Eternal who hears, the same Father 
 who answers.' 
 
 After a little time the two women decided together 
 that it would be an act pleasing to God to build a 
 hospital where the sick and afflicted of Cairo might 
 be nursed to health, comforted by religious kindness, 
 and where all that science could accomplish should 
 be done for those who are poor. And soon the 
 hospital was built, and so great was the effect upon
 
 MUSTARD SEED 285 
 
 the Egyptian lady's heart of this noble place inspired 
 by love of Christ, that just before the end of her life 
 she became a Christian. Then, on her deathbed, she 
 caused a statue of Falaise to be set up in the garden, 
 a statue of the white angel whom God had sent to 
 Egypt, an angel praying to God, with her eyes 
 towards the river and the sea. At her death Falaise 
 became the chief of the hospital and was alone 
 responsible for its maintenance. 
 
 Such, in brief, was the story of Falaise. Both 
 Hildebert and the merchant were marvellously 
 moved by its narration. Again and again brother 
 and sister embraced with joy. The merchant smiled 
 upon them and blessed God for His mercy. 
 
 Then Hildebert asked Falaise if she would return 
 with him to France. 
 
 She shook her head. ' I feel that it is here I am 
 intended to work,' she replied, ' and my mother, 
 who worships God, will understand and will not 
 ask me to return.' 
 
 Hildebert drew from his bosom the old rosary 
 which five years ago his mother had sent by Gaspard 
 to Falaise. 
 
 She handled it tenderly for a moment, kissing 
 some of the beads, and then returned it to Hilde- 
 bert. ' It is sacred, because my mother has used it 
 in her prayers,' she said ; ' but I can pray best to 
 God with empty hands. Take it back to our mother, 
 and let it be a sign to her of my love. We shall meet
 
 286 MUSTARD SEED 
 
 in heaven, where there shall be no more tears, no 
 more partings.' 
 
 Then Hildebert told her what he knew of Gaspard. 
 
 ' Whether he return to France or stay with the 
 great king in India,' Falaise said at the end, ' he 
 will serve God. I think God has greater need of him 
 in India than in France. Tell our parents that they 
 must not grieve either for Gaspard or for me. It 
 may be sad for them not to see us again on this 
 earth, but life is only for a little, and afterwards, 
 in a beautiful heaven, we shall meet and be happy 
 with God. Surely it shall sweeten their sorrow now, 
 that I in Egypt and Gaspard in India are at least 
 touching the religions of the heathen with the 
 kindness of Christ. And they will have you to bless 
 and rejoice them. God has not left them com- 
 fortless.' 
 
 She said more than this when Hildebert implored 
 her to return if only for a little time, and she spoke 
 so passionately, like one inspired, that Hildebert 
 was carried away by her eloquence. 
 
 ' I, too,' he exclaimed, ' will remain. I, too, will 
 not go back. The Crusade was not in vain. It 
 shall yet conquer the world by love.' 
 
 But Falaise gathered him into her arms, and said 
 to him, ' It is the Will of God that you return, 
 not only to comfort our parents, but to teach France 
 that the sword is not the weapon of Christ. If none 
 return, none will know. Go back to France, and
 
 MUSTARD SEED 287 
 
 tell the gospel of the Children's Crusade, for it is a 
 good tidings.' 
 
 Then she took Hildebert into the hospital, and his 
 eyes were treated by a doctor, and after a few hours 
 he returned with the merchant to the ship.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 BRINGING HIS SHEAVES 
 
 ON a summer's evening, Hildebert arrived in 
 Chateauneuf . The money with which Gaspard 
 had provided him enabled the poor boy to buy a 
 mule in Marseilles, and he had ridden as far as 
 Limoges. Here he was robbed of all he possessed, 
 save the little red cross and the rosary, by a man 
 whom he had met on the road and with whom 
 he had talked freely and trustingly, as was his 
 nature. 
 
 The rest of the road, therefore, he tramped and 
 begged his way, befriended by the poor, mocked by 
 the rich, and distrusted by priests and monks. He 
 arrived footsore, dusty, and hungry at the hour of 
 sunset. 
 
 Nicholas had just come from the shop to the 
 kitchen. Elisabeth was bringing the pot from the 
 fire to the table. Isabel was greeting Nicholas, as 
 she set the three trenchers of black bread in their 
 place. 
 
 Isabel had come to stay with Elisabeth soon after 
 the departure of the Children's Crusade. When the 
 
 288
 
 BRINGING HIS SHEAVES 289 
 
 news arrived from Marseilles of the betrayal by the 
 pious merchants and the shipwreck of some of 
 the vessels, Isabel remained to comfort and sustain 
 the poor desolate and broken-hearted mother. The 
 two women became devoted. They were not like 
 mother and daughter, but like sisters crushed and 
 broken by a single blow. They clung to each other 
 in the ruin of their loves ; and Nicholas looked on, 
 and rubbed his hands, and moistened his lips, and 
 said, 'It is God's Will. He has prospered me. And 
 now He will not leave me lonely to the lamentations 
 of an old woman with a broken heart. God is good. 
 One must believe to be prospered.' 
 
 Hildebert entered by the familiar door of the 
 house. He called, but got no answer. Then he 
 groped his way through the shadows to the yard. 
 As he came towards the kitchen, Isabel, whose eyes 
 were lifted to greet Nicholas, saw him, but did 
 not recognise him. Long ago more than five 
 years ago the children had been given up for 
 dead. 
 
 ' Someone wants you,' she said quietly to 
 Nicholas. 
 
 He saw where her eyes were directed, and wheeled 
 briskly round. 
 
 ' Who is it ? ' he demanded. ' What do you 
 want ? ' 
 
 At that moment there was a frightful clatter in 
 the kitchen. Both he and Isabel turned swiftly
 
 290 BRINGING HIS SHEAVES 
 
 round. Elisabeth had let the pot fall from her hands 
 upon the rushes of the floor. They saw her standing, 
 white as death, her arms half lifted and stretched 
 out towards the doorway. 
 
 In an instant Isabel divined the truth, but she 
 ran to her second-mother, embraced her, and held 
 her from falling, without once casting a look at the 
 son who had come back. 
 
 Nicholas did not immediately realise what had 
 happened. His brain only knew that a stranger 
 stood at the doorway, and that his wife had spilled 
 the supper. 
 
 ' What's to do ? What's to do ? ' he exclaimed 
 petulantly. 
 
 ' Mother ! ' said the stranger at the door, and 
 groped his way in, holding in his outstretched hand, 
 as if in warrant of his identity, a little red cross and 
 a rosary. 
 
 Then Nicholas sprang forward, seized his son hi 
 his arms, examined his face, uttered a frightful 
 cry of joy and agony, and hugged him to his 
 bosom. 
 
 Elisabeth advanced, weak and tottering, sup- 
 ported by Isabel. Her eyes, with their black rings, 
 seemed to stand clear of the sockets ; her cheeks 
 were like the linen that covered the head and framed 
 her face like the dress of a nun ; her lips were 
 parted ; with her hands she seemed to be swimming 
 through the air.
 
 BRINGING HIS SHEAVES 291 
 
 Nicholas, his eyes streaming, and still embracing 
 Hildebert, turned his head, and sobbed out rather 
 than cried, ' Wife ! Wife ! The little one. Our 
 little one ! ' 
 
 She took Hildebert into her arms, held him 
 against her breast, bowed her head, and wept upon 
 him. 
 
 She only had seen, even in the shock of her joy t 
 that her son was all but blind. 
 
 When they were calm, Hildebert told the story of 
 the Crusade, related the encounter with Falaise, 
 gave the message she had sent back with the rosary, 
 and told how he had parted from Gaspard more 
 than five years ago, how he had been a slave in 
 Benares, and how, finally, Gaspard had sent an Arab 
 to obtain his freedom. 
 
 ' Ah ! ' cried Elisabeth, ' the blessed St. Martin 
 spoke truly to me ! Your brother was sent by God 
 to be your shield and protector.' 
 
 ' And comes he not home himself ? ' asked Isabel 
 in a quiet voice. 
 
 It was the first question she had asked. Elisabeth 
 caught up her hand, and held it, and looked at her 
 with love and tenderness. 
 
 Then Hildebert remembered the letter, and drew 
 it from his ragged clothes, and gave it to Isabel. 
 
 ' He keeps your picture, which he loves beyond
 
 292 BRINGING HIS SHEAVES 
 
 all his possessions,' he said ; ' and he tade me say 
 that none here is to grieve for him, that he is happy 
 and content, that his master is a great king, that he 
 is promoted to honour, and that he loves you all, 
 and trusts in God that what is denied here may be 
 fulfilled in heaven.' 
 
 No one spoke for a moment, and then Nicholas 
 laughed, rubbed his soft hands, and said : 
 
 * Our Gaspard was always a lad for ambition. He 
 has got fame and power. He sits at the elbows of 
 kings, and that they be black ones, and infamous 
 heretics and infidels to boot, matters not to him ! 
 Skeletons are all of one hue ! Well, let him live 
 as he will. We are not all made alike. But 
 God bless him, God bless my boy Gaspard, for 
 sending home to us our little Hildebert of the red 
 cross.' 
 
 So Hildebert lived at home, and became gradually 
 blind, and was beloved by all for the sweetness of 
 his disposition and the glory of his faith, which was 
 like an atmosphere about him and like a fragrance 
 in his speech. He it was who taught Europe that 
 the sword is not the weapon of Christ, that the 
 heathen are also in search of God, and that we 
 must first use them as brothers before we can bring 
 them to the Cross of Christ. Hildebert spoke to 
 many who came to his father's house as to a shrine. 
 He addressed bishops and clergy, and he laboured 
 among the poor of Touraine, teaching them above
 
 BRINGING HIS SHEAVES 293 
 
 everything else the Law of God. There was never 
 a teacher of the True Way like Hildebert in that 
 region of France. 
 
 And Isabel became mother both to him and to 
 Elisabeth in her old age, and she was the good angel 
 of that house, and to no one, lest it should mar their 
 bliss, did she ever tell what her heart knew by 
 instinct, to wit, that Gaspard had laid down his life 
 for his brother. 
 
 ' What is denied here,' she would say cheerfully, 
 whenever any trouble came to perplex or worry 
 them, ' will be fulfilled in heaven.' 
 
 So she believed ; and in this faith she lived her 
 gentle life of unselfish ministration, and passed to 
 the mystery of death sure of its truth. 
 
 Gaspard was already on the other side to greet 
 her and fulfil. 
 
 So ends a story that was once the wonder of the 
 world, soon but its laughter, and afterwards but 
 one of many things forgotten. We who under- 
 stand it better will neither wonder nor laugh ; 
 rather, while its memory yet lingers in our minds, 
 will we hope that it had some blessing for the East, 
 some warning for the West, some purpose in the 
 mystery of God. For surely as we look more 
 closely back upon the road of history, the more 
 clearly do we see, through all the wanderings and 
 
 U 2
 
 294 BRINGING HIS SHEAVES 
 
 blunderings of Man, the moving, the guiding, and 
 the patient shaping of a Spirit Hand. 
 
 What seem to us but sad funereal tapers, 
 May be heaven's distant lamps. 
 
 Never can the world content itself either with the 
 grossness of sensuality or with the cramping dullness 
 of materialism. Always in periods of great spiritual 
 darkness there will be such wild, violent, and passion- 
 ate reactions as this Children's Crusade, witnessing 
 even in the height of their folly and the depth of 
 their tragedy to the longing of the soul at whatever 
 cost for contact with the central verity of existence. 
 'Thou madest us for Thyself, and our heart is 
 restless, until it repose in Thee.' 
 
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