delicious fruit were ranged along one wall of the still room, and
busy hands were already preparing the bright berries for the
preserving pan or the rows of jars that were likewise placed in
readiness to receive them. The cherry trees of Chad were famous for
their splendid crop, and the mistress had many wonderful recipes
and preparations by which the fruit was preserved and made into all
manner of dainty conserves that delighted all who partook of them.

"I will come anon, and help you with your task," said the lady to
the busy wenches in the still room, who were hard at work preparing
the fruit. "I will return as soon as I have made my round, and see
that all is going well."

The girls smiled, and dropped their rustic courtesies. Some amongst
them were not the regular serving maids of the place, but were the
daughters of the humbler retainers living round and about, who were
glad to come to assist at the great house when there was any press
of work--a thing that frequently happened from April to November.

None who assisted at Chad at such times ever went away empty
handed. Besides the small wage given for the work done, there was
always a basket of fruit, or a piece of meat, or a flagon of wine,
according to the nature of the task, set aside for each assistant
who did not dwell beneath the roof of Chad. And if there was
sickness in any cottage from which a worker came, there was certain
to be some little delicacy put into a basket by the hands of the
mistress, and sent with a kindly word of goodwill and sympathy to
the sufferer.

It was small wonder, then, that the household and community of Chad
was a happy and peaceable one, or that the knight and his lady were
beloved of all around.

The morning's round was no sinecure, even though the mistress was
today as quick as possible in her visit of inspection. Three fat
bucks had been brought in from the forest yester-eve, when the
knight and his sons had returned from hunting. The venison had to
be prepared, and a part of it dried and salted down for winter use;
whilst of course a great batch of pies and pasties must be put in
hand, so that the most should be made of the meat whilst it was
still fresh.

When that matter had been settled, there were the live creatures to
visit--the calves in their stalls, the rows of milch kine, and the
great piggery, where porkers of every kind and colour were tumbling
about in great excitement awaiting their morning meal. The mistress
of the house generally saw the pigs fed each day, to insure their
having food proper to them, and not the offal and foul remnants
that idle servants loved to give and they to eat were not some
supervision exercised. The care of dogs and horses the lady left to
her husband and sons, but the cows, the pigs, and the poultry she
always looked after herself.

Her daily task accomplished, she returned to the still room,
prepared for a long morning over her conserves. It was but
half-past nine now; for the breakfast hour in baronial houses was
seven all the year round, and today had been half-an-hour earlier
on account of the press of work incident to the harvesting of the
cherry crop. Several of the servants who were generally occupied
about the house had risen today with the lark, to be able to help
their lady, and soon a busy, silent party was working in pantry and
still room under the careful eye of the mistress.

One old woman who had been accommodated with a chair, though her
fingers were as brisk as any of the younger girls', from time to
time addressed a question or a remark to her lady, which was always
kindly answered. She was the old nurse of Chad, having been nurse
to Sir Oliver in his infancy, and having since had charge of his
three boys during their earliest years. She was growing infirm now,
and seldom left her own little room in a sunny corner of the big
house, where her meals were taken her by one of the younger maids.
But in the warm weather, when her stiff limbs gained a little more
power, she loved on occasion to come forth and take a share in the
life of the house, and work with the busy wenches under the
mistress's eye at the piles of fruit from the successive summer and
autumn crops as they came in rotation.

"And where be the dear children?" she asked once; "I have not set
eyes on them the livelong day. Methought the very smell of the
cherries would have brought them hither, as bees and wasps to a
honey pot."

The lady smiled slightly.

"I doubt not they will be here anon; but doubtless they have paid
many visits to the trees ere the store was garnered. I think they
are in the tilt yard with Warbel. It is there they are generally to
be found in the early hours of the day."

"They be fine, gamesome lads," said the old woman fondly--"chips of
the old block, true Chads every one of them;" for the custom with
the common people was to call the lord of the manor by the name of
his house rather than by his own patronymic, and Sir Oliver was
commonly spoken of as "Chad" by his retainers; a custom which
lingered long in the south and west of the country.

"They are well-grown, hearty boys," answered the mother quietly,
though there was a light of tender pride in her eyes. "Bertram is
almost a man in looks, though he is scarce seventeen yet.
Seventeen! How time flies! It seems but yesterday since he was a
little boy standing at my knee to say his light tasks, and walking
to and fro holding his father's hand. Well, Heaven be praised, the
years have been peaceful and prosperous, else would not they have
fled by so swiftly."

"Heaven be praised indeed!" echoed the old woman. "For now the
master is so safely seated at Chad that he would be a bold man who
tried to oust him. But in days gone by I have sorely feared yon
proud Lord of Mortimer. Methought he would try to do him a
mischief. His spleen and spite, as all men say, are very great."

The lady's face clouded slightly, but her reply was quiet and calm.

"I fear me they are that still; but he lacks all cause of offence.
My good lord is careful in all things to avoid making ill blood
with a jealous neighbour. That he has always cast covetous eyes
upon Chad is known throughout the countryside; but I trow he would
find it something difficult to make good any claim."

"Why, verily!" cried the nurse, with energy. "He could but come as
a foul usurper, against whom would every honest hand be raised.
But, good my mistress, what is the truth of the whisper I have
heard that the Lord of Mortimer has wed his daughter to one who
calls himself of the house of Chad? I cannot believe that any of
the old race would mate with a Mortimer. Is it but the idle gossip
of the ignorant? or what truth is there in it?"

"I scarce know myself the rights of the matter," answered Lady
Chadgrove, still with a slight cloud upon her brow. "It is
certainly true that Lord Mortimer has lately wed his only child, a
daughter, to a knight who calls himself Sir Edward Chadwell, and
makes claim to be descended from my lord's house. Men say that he
makes great boasting that the Chadwells are an older branch than
the Chadgroves, and that by right of inheritance Chad is his.

"Methinks he would find it very hard to make good any such claim.
Belike it is but idle boasting. Yet it may be that there will be
some trouble in store. He has taken up his abode at Mortimer's
Keep, and maybe we shall hear ill news before long."

All eyes were fixed for a moment on the lady's face, and then the
hands moved faster than before, whilst a subdued murmur went round
the group. Not one heart was there that did not beat with
indignation at the thought that any should dare to try to disturb
the peace of the rightful lord of Chad. If the loyalty and
affection of all around would prove a safeguard, the knight need
have no fear from the claims advanced by any adversary.

"There has been a muttering of coming tempest anent those vexed
forest rights," continued the lady, in reply to some indignant
words from the nurse. "I would that difficult question could be
settled and laid at rest; but my good lord has yielded something
too much already for the sake of peace and quietness, and at each
concession Mortimer's word was passed that he would claim no
further rights over the portion that remained to us. But his word
is broken without scruple, and we cannot ever be giving way. Were
no stand to be made, the whole forest track would soon be claimed
by Mortimer, and we should have nothing but the bare park that is
fenced about and cannot be filched bit by bit away. But all the
world knows that Chad has forest rights equal to those of Mortimer.
It is but to seek a quarrel that the baron continues to push his
claims ever nearer and nearer our walls."

Another murmur of indignation went round; but there was no time for
further talk, as at that moment the three boys entered from the
tilt yard; hot, thirsty, and breathless, and the fair-haired lad
with the dreamy blue eyes held a kerchief to his head that was
stained with blood.

"Art hurt, Edred?" asked the mother, looking up.

"'Tis but a scratch," answered the boy. "I am not quite a match for
Bertram yet; but I will be anon. I must learn to be quicker in my
defence. Thanks, gentle mother; belike it will be better for it to
be bound up. It bleeds rather too fast for comfort, but thy hands
will soon stop that."

The other boys fell upon the fruit with right good will, whilst the
mother led her second son to the small pump nigh at hand, and
bathed and dressed the rather ugly wound in his head.

Neither mother nor son thought anything of the hurt. It was easy
enough to give and receive hard blows in the tilt yard, and bruises
and cuts were looked upon as part of the discipline of life.

As soon as the dressing was over, Edred joined his brothers, and
did his share in diminishing the pile of luscious fruit. And as
they ate they chattered away to the old woman of their prowess in
tilt yard and forest, relating how Bertram had slain a fat buck
with his own hands the previous day, and how they had between them
given the coup-de-grace to another, which had been brought to bay
at the water, father and huntsmen standing aloof to let the boys
show their strength and skill.

Nine years had passed since that strange night when Bertram had
been awakened by the advent of the mysterious stranger at his
bedside. He had developed since then from a sturdy little boy into
a fine-grown youth of seventeen, who had in his own eyes, and in
the eyes of many others, well-nigh reached man's estate; and who
would, if need should arise, go forth equipped for war to fight the
king's battles. He was a handsome, dark-haired, dark-eyed youth,
with plenty of determination and force of character, and with a
love of Chad so deeply rooted in his nature, that to be the heir of
that property seemed to him the finest position in all the world,
and he would not have exchanged it for that of Prince of Wales.

The second son, Edred (Ethelred was his true name; he was called
after his mother, Etheldred), was some half-head shorter than his
brother, but a fine boy for all that. He was fifteen, and whilst
sharing to a great extent in the love of sport and of warlike games
so common in that day, he was also a greater lover of books than
his brothers, and would sometimes absent himself from their
pastimes to study with Brother Emmanuel and learn from him many
things that were not written in books. The other lads gave more
time to study than was usual at that period; for both Sir Oliver
and his lady believed in the value of book lore and the use of the
pen, deploring the lack of learning that had prevailed during the
confusion of the late wars, and greatly desiring its revival. But
it was Edred who really inherited the scholarly tastes of his
parents, and already the question of making a monk of him was under
serious discussion. The boy thought that if he might have a few
more years of liberty and enjoyment he should like the life of the
cloister well.

Julian bore a strong resemblance to Bertram both in person and
disposition. He was a very fine boy, nearly fourteen years old, and
had been the companion of his brothers from infancy, so that he
often appeared older than his age. All three brothers were bound
together in bonds of more than wonted affection. They not only
shared their sports and studies, but held almost all their
belongings in common. Each lad had his own horse and his own
weapons, whilst Edred had one or two books over which he claimed
absolute possession; but for the rest, they enjoyed all properties
in common, and it had hardly entered into their calculations that
they could ever be separated, save when the idea of making Edred
into a monk came under discussion; and as that would not be done
for some years, it scarcely seemed worth troubling over now.
Perhaps things would turn out differently in the end, and they
would remain together at Chad for the whole of their natural lives.

Nurse never wearied of the tales told by her young masters, and
listened with fond pride to the recital. So eagerly were Bertram
and Julian talking, that they did not heed the sound of the horn at
the gate way which bespoke the arrival of some messenger; but Edred
slipped out to see who could be coming, and presently he returned
with a frown upon his brow.

"There is a messenger at the gate who wears the livery of
Mortimer," he said. "An insolent knave to boot, who flung his
missive in the face of old Ralph, and spurred off with a mocking
laugh. I would I had had my good steed between my knees, and I
would have given the rascal a lesson in manners. I like not these
messengers from Mortimer; they always betide ill will to my
father."

Lady Chadgrove looked anxious for a moment, but her brow soon
cleared as she made answer: "I shall be sorry if aught comes to
grieve or vex your father; but so long as we are careful to give no
just cause for offence, we need not trouble our heads overmuch as
to the jealous anger of the Lord of Mortimer. I misdoubt me if he
can really hurt us, be he never so vindictive. The king is just,
and he values the services of your father. He will not permit him
to be molested without cause. And methinks my Lord of Mortimer
knows as much, else he would have wrought us more ill all these
past years."

"He is a tyrant and an evil liver!" cried Bertram hotly; "and his
servants be drunken, brawling knaves, every one--as insolent as
their master. If I had been old Ralph, I would have hurled back his
missive in his face, and bidden him deliver it rightly."

"Nay, nay, my son; that would but be to stir up strife. If others
comport themselves ill, that is no reason why our servants should
do the like. I would never give a foe a handle against me by the
ill behaviour of even a serving man. Let them act never so surlily,
I would that they were treated with all due courtesy."

Bertram and Julian hardly entered into their mother's feelings on
this point; but Edred looked up eagerly, and it was plain that he
understood the feelings which prompted the words, for he said in a
low voice:

"Methinks thou art right, gentle mother; albeit I did sorely long
to give the varlet a lesson to teach him better. But perchance it
was well I was not nigh enough. Surely it must be nigh upon the
hour for dinner. Our sport has whet the edge of appetite, and I
would fain hear what the missive was which yon knave brought with
him. Our father will doubtless tell us at the table."

It was indeed nearly noon, and mistress and maids alike
relinquished their tasks to prepare for the meal which was the
chiefest of the day, though the supper was nothing to be despised.

The long table in the great banqueting hall was a goodly sight to
see when the dinner was spread, and the retainers of the better
sort and some amongst the upper servants sat down with the master
and his family to partake of the good cheer. At one end of the long
board sat the knight and his lady side by side; to their right were
the three boys, the young monk, and Warbel the armourer, who now
held a post of some importance in the house. Opposite to these were
other gentlemen-at-arms and their sons, who were resident at Chad;
and at the lower end of the table, below the great silver salt
cellars, sat the seneschal, the lowlier retainers, and certain
trusted servants who held responsible positions at Chad. The cooks
and scullions and underlings dined in the great kitchen immediately
after their masters' meal had been served.

The table at Chad always groaned with good things, except at such
seasons as the Church decreed a fast, and then the diet was
scrupulously kept within the prescribed bounds. Sir Oliver and his
wife were both devout and earnest people, and had every reverence
for their spiritual superiors. The Benedictine Priory of Chadwater
stood only a mile and a half distant, and the prior was on
excellent terms with the owner of Chad. Brother Emmanuel had been
an inmate of the priory before he was selected by Sir Oliver for
the education of his sons. He was considered a youth of no small
promise, and the knight was well pleased at the progress made by
his boys since they had been studying with him.

Today there was a look of annoyance upon the handsome face of Sir
Oliver Chadgrove. It was a striking countenance at all times, in
which sternness of purpose and kindness of heart were blended in a
fashion that was both attractive and unusual. He had the same
regular features, rather square in the outline, which he had
transmitted to his children; and his hair, which was now silvered
with many streaks, had been raven black in its day. His carriage
was upright and fearless, and he was very tall and powerfully
proportioned. It was Bertram's keenest ambition to grow up in all
points like his father, and he copied him, consciously and
unconsciously, in a fashion that often raised a smile on his
mother's face.

"I have been favoured with another insolent letter from my Lord of
Mortimer," he said. "He had better take heed that he try not my
patience too far, and that I go not to the king and lay a complaint
before him. I will do so if I be much more troubled."

"What says he now, father?" asked Bertram eagerly, forgetting in
his eagerness the generally observed maxim that the sons spoke not
at table till they were directly addressed. But the knight did not
himself heed this breach of decorum.

"It is the same old story; but every year he grows more grasping
and more insolent. Today he complains, forsooth, that the last buck
we killed was killed on his ground, and by rights belonged to him.
He threatens that his foresters and huntsmen will wage war with us
in future if we 'trespass' upon his rights, and wrest our spoil
from us! Beshrew me if I submit to much more! Patience and
forbearance are useless with such a man. I would I had not conceded
all I have done in the interests of peace."

Bertram's face was crimson with anger, Edred's eyes had widened in
astonishment, whilst Julian burst out in indignant remonstrance and
argument.

"His ground! his rights! How can he dare say that? Why, the buck
was killed at Juno's Pool; and all the world knows that that is
within the confines of Chad, and that all forest rights there
belong to the Lord of Chad! I would I could force his false words
down his false throat! I would I could--" but the boy suddenly
ceased, because he caught his mother's warning eye upon him, and
saw that his father had opened his lips to speak.

"Ay, and he knows it himself as well as we do; but he is growing
bolder and bolder through that monstrous claim he is ever
threatening to push--the claim of his son-in-law to be rightful
Lord of Chad! Phew! he will find it hard to prove that claim, or to
oust the present lord. But Mortimer has money and to spare, and
Chad has long been to him what Naboth's vineyard was to King Ahab--

"Brother Emmanuel, that simile is thine, and a right good one, too.

"He will seize on any pretext to pick a quarrel; and if he dares,
he will push that quarrel at the point of the sword. I do not fear
him; I have the right on my side. But we may not blind ourselves to
this: that he is a right bitter and treacherous foe, and that
should we give any, even the smallest cause of suspicion or
offence, he would seize upon that to ruin us."

Sir Oliver looked keenly round the table at all assembled there,
and many knew better than his sons what was in his mind at the time
and what had caused him to speak thus.

For a long while now the leaven of Lollardism had been working
silently in the country, and there were very many even amongst
orthodox sons of the Church who were more or less "bitten" by some
of the new notions. It need hardly be said that wherever light is,
it will penetrate in a mysterious and often inexplicable fashion;
and although there was much extravagance and perversion in the
teachings of the advanced Lollards, there was undoubtedly amongst
them a far clearer and purer light than existed in the hearts of
those of the common people who had been brought up beneath the sway
of the priests, themselves so often ignorant and ill-living men.

And so the light gradually spread; and many who would have
repudiated the name of Lollard with scorn and loathing were
beginning to hold some of their tenets, and to wish for a simpler
and purer form of faith, and for liberty to study the Scriptures
for themselves; and no one knew better the leavening spirit of the
age than did Sir Oliver Chadgrove, himself a man of liberal views
and devout habit of mind, and his wife, who shared his every
thought and opinion.

They had both heard the stirring and enlightened preaching of Dean
Colet, and were great admirers of his; but they took the view that
that divine himself held--namely, that the Church would gradually
reform herself from within; that she was awakening to the need of
some reformation and advance; and that her sons were safe within
her fold, and must patiently await her own work there.

This was exactly the feeling of the knight and his lady. They
rejoiced in the words they had heard, and in the wider knowledge of
the Scriptures which had been thus unfolded; but that any such
doctrine, when preached and taught by the Lollard heretics, could
be right or true they would have utterly denied and repudiated. The
Lollards had won for themselves a bad name, and were thought of
with scorn and contempt. Nevertheless, in country places the leaven
of their teaching permeated far and wide, and Sir Oliver had more
than once occasion to fear that amongst his own retainers some were
slightly tainted by heresy.

Of course if it could be proved against him that his followers were
Lollards, his enemy might take terrible advantage and deal him a
heavy blow. It was the one charge which if proved would strike him
to the earth; even the king's favour would scarce serve him then.
The king would not stand up in opposition to the Church; and if the
Church condemned his house as being a harbouring place for
heretics, then indeed he would be undone.

It was this thing which was in his mind as he glanced with keen
eyes round his table on this bright midsummer day; and his wife,
and the monk, and the bulk of those sitting there read the true
meaning of his words and of his look, and recognized the truth of
the grave word of warning.



Chapter III: Brother Emmanuel.


The hush of a Sabbath was upon the land. The sounds of life and
industry were no longer heard around Chad. Within and without the
house a calm stillness prevailed, and the hot summer sunshine lay
broad upon the quiet fields and the garden upon which so much
loving care had of late years been spent.

The white and red roses, no longer the symbols of party strife,
were blooming in their midsummer glory. The air was sweet with
their fragrance, and bees hummed drowsily from flower to flower. In
the deep shadow cast by a huge cedar tree, that reared its stately
head as high as the battlements of the turret, a small group had
gathered this hot afternoon. The young monk was there in the black
cassock, hood, and girdle that formed the usual dress of the
Benedictine in this country, and around him were grouped his three
pupils, to whom he was reading out of the great Latin Bible that
was one of the treasures of Sir Oliver's library.

All the boys were Latin scholars, and had made much progress in
their knowledge of that language since the advent of the young monk
into the household. They had likewise greatly increased in their
knowledge of the Scriptures; for Brother Emmanuel was a sound
believer in the doctrine preached by the Dean of St. Paul's, and of
the maxims laid down by him--that the Scriptures were not to be
pulled to fragments, and each fragment explained without reference
to the context, but to be studied and examined as a whole, and so
explained, one portion illuminating and illustrating another. After
such a fashion had Brother Emmanuel long been studying the Word of
God, and after such a method did he explain it to his pupils.

All three boys were possessed of clear heads and quick
intelligence, and their minds had expanded beneath the influence of
the young monk's teaching. They all loved a quiet hour spent with
him in reading and expounding the Bible narrative, and today a
larger portion than usual had been read; for the heat made exertion
unwelcome even to the active lads, and it was pleasanter here
beneath the cedar tree than anywhere else besides.

"Now, I would fain know," began Julian, after a pause in the
reading, "why it is that it is thought such a vile thing for men to
possess copies of God's Word in their own tongue that they may read
it to themselves. It seems to me that men would be better and not
worse for knowing the will of God in all things; and here it is set
down clearly for every man to understand. Yet, if I understand not
amiss, it is made a cause of death for any to possess the
Scriptures in his own tongue."

"Yea, that is what the heretic Lollards do--read and expound the
Scriptures in the vulgar tongue and after their own fashion," said
Bertram. "Have a care, Julian, how thou seemest to approve their
methods; for there is a great determination in high places to put
down at once and for all the vile doctrines which are corrupting
all the land."

"I approve no heresy," cried Julian eagerly. "I do but ask why it
be heresy to read the Word of God, and to have in possession a
portion of it in the language of one's country."

"Marry, dost thou not know that one reason is the many errors the
translators have fallen into, which deceive the unwary and lead the
flock astray?" cried Edred eagerly. "Brother Emmanuel has told me
some amongst these, and there are doubtless many others of which he
may not have heard. A man may not drink with impunity of poisoned
waters; neither is it safe to take as the Word of God a book which
may have many perversions of His truth."

Edred looked up at Brother Emmanuel for confirmation of this
explanation. It was the monk's habit to encourage the boys to
discuss any question of interest freely amongst themselves, he
listening in silence the while, and later on giving them the
benefit of his opinion. All the three turned to him now to see what
he would say upon a point that was already agitating the country,
and was preparing the way for a shaking that should lead to an
altogether new state of existence both in Church and State. Even
out here in the garden, in the sanctuary of their own home, with
only their friend and spiritual pastor to hear them, the boys spoke
with bated breath, as though fearful of uttering words which might
have within them some germ of that dreaded sin of heresy.

As for Brother Emmanuel, he sat with his hands folded in his
sleeves, the great book upon his knees, a slight and thoughtful
smile playing around the corners of his finely-cut mouth. His whole
face was intensely spiritual in expression. The features were
delicately cut, and bore the impress of an ascetic life, as well as
of gentle birth and noble blood. He was, in fact, a scion of an
ancient and powerful house; but it was one of those houses that had
suffered sorely in the recent strife, and whose members had been
scattered and cut off. He had no powerful relatives and friends to
turn to now for promotion to rich benefice or high ecclesiastical
preferment, and he had certainly never lamented this fact. In heart
and soul he was a follower of the rules of poverty laid down by the
founder of his order, and would have thought himself untrue to his
calling had he suffered himself to be endowed with worldly wealth.
Even such moneys as he received from Sir Oliver for the instruction
given to his sons were never kept by himself. All were given either
to the poor by his hands direct, or placed at the disposal of the
Prior of Chadwater, where he had been an inmate for a short time
previous to his installation as chaplain at Chad. He had not sought
this office; he would rather have remained beneath the priory
walls. He thought that it was something contrary to the will of the
founders for monks to become parochial priests, or to hold offices
and benefices which took them from the shelter of their monastery
walls. But such things were of daily occurrence now, and were
causing bitter jealousy to arise betwixt the parochial clergy and
the monks, sowing seeds of strife which played a considerable part
in the struggle this same century was to see. But it was useless to
try to stem the current single-handed, and the rule of obedience
was as strong within him as that of poverty and chastity.

When sent forth by his prior (who secretly thought that this young
monk was too strict and ascetic and too keen-witted to be a safe
inmate of a house which had long fallen from its high estate, and
was becoming luxurious and wealthy and lax), he had gone
unmurmuringly to Chad, and since then had become so much interested
in his pupils and in his round of daily duties there that he had
not greatly missed the life of the cloister.

He had leisure for thought and for study. He had access to a
library which, although not large, held many treasures of book
making, and was sufficient for the requirements of the young monk.
He could keep the hours of the Church in the little chantry
attached to the house, and he was taken out of the atmosphere of
jealousy and bickering which, to his own great astonishment and
dismay, he had found to be the prevailing one at Chadwater.

On the whole, he had benefited by the change, and was very happy in
his daily duties. He rejoiced to watch the unfolding minds of his
three pupils, and especially to train Edred for the life of the
cloister, to which already he had been partially dedicated, and
towards which he seemed to incline.

And now, eagerly questioned by the boys upon that vexed point of
the translated Scriptures and their possession by the common
people, he looked thoughtfully out before him, and gave his answer
in his own poetic fashion.

"The Word of God, my children, is as a fountain of life. Those who
drink of it drink immortality and joy and peace passing all
understanding. The Saviour of mankind--Himself the Word of God--has
given Himself freely, that all men may come to Him, and, drinking
of the living water, may find within their hearts a living fountain
which shall cause that they never thirst again. But the question
before us is not whether men shall drink of this fountain--we know
that they must do so to live--but how they shall drink of it; how
and in what manner the waters of life shall be dispensed to them."

The boys fixed their eyes eagerly upon him. Julian nodded his head,
and Edred's eyes grew deep with the intensity of his wish to follow
the workings of the mind of his instructor.

"For that we must look back to the days of our Lord, when He was
here upon earth. HOW did He give forth the Word of Life? How did He
rule that it was from that time forward to be given to men?"

"He preached to the people who came to Him," answered Edred, "and
He directed His apostles and disciples to do likewise--to go forth
into all lands and preach the gospel to every creature."

"Just so," answered Brother Emmanuel, with an other of his slight
peculiar smiles. "In other words, he intrusted the Word--Himself,
the news of Himself--to a living ministry, to men, that through the
mouths of His apostles and those disciples who had received regular
instruction from Him and from them the world might be enlightened
with the truth."

The boys listened eagerly, with mute attention.

"Go on," said Edred breathlessly. "Prithee tell us more."

"Our blessed Lord and Master laid no charge upon His apostles to
write of Him--to send forth into the world a written testimony. We
know that the inspired Word is written from end to end by the will
of God. It was necessary for the preservation of the truth in its
purity that its doctrines should be thus set down--that there
should be in existence some standard by which in generations to
come the learned ones of the earth might be able to judge of the
purity of the doctrines preached, and refute heresies and errors
that might and would creep in; but it was to men, to a living
ministry, that our Saviour intrusted the precious truths of His
gospel, and to a living ministry men should look to have those
truths unfolded."

"I see that point," cried Edred eagerly. "I had never thought of it
quite in that way before. Does it so state the matter anywhere in
the Holy Book? I love to gather the truth from its pages. Thou hast
not told us that we are wrong in that."

"Nay, under guidance all men should seek to those holy truths; but
will they find the priceless jewel if they seek it without those
aids our blessed Lord Himself has appointed? Wouldst thou know more
of His will in this matter? Then thou shalt."

The monk turned the leaves of the book awhile, and then paused at
an open page.

"On earth, as we have seen, the blessed Saviour intrusted His truth
to the care of chosen men. Now let us see how He acted when,
ascended into the heavens, He looked down upon earth, and directed
from thence the affairs of this world. Did He then ordain that a
written testimony was to be prepared and sent forth into all lands?
No. What we learn then is that when He ascended into the heavens
and received and gave gifts to men, He gave to them apostles,
prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers--a living ministry
again, a fourfold living ministry--that by this living ministry,
surely typified in the vision of St. John by the four living
creatures with the fourfold head, the saints were to be perfected,
the unity of the faith preserved, and the body of Christ edified
and kept in its full growth and perfection till He come Himself to
claim the Bride."

Edred's eyes were full of vivid intelligence. He followed in the
Latin tongue the words as Brother Emmanuel spoke them, and looking
up he asked wistfully:

"But where are they now, the apostles and prophets, the evangelists
and pastors? Have we got them with us yet?"

"We have at least the semblance of them; doubtless but for our own
sins and shortcomings we should have a fuller ministry--a fuller
outpouring of the water of life through those four God-given
channels by which the Church is to be fed. We have the apostolic
office ever in exercise in our spiritual head at Rome. St. Peter
has left us a successor, and his throne shall never be empty so
long as the world lasts. Now and again the prophetic fire bursts
forth in some holy man who has fasted and prayed until the veil
betwixt the seen and the unseen has grown thin. Would to God there
was more light of prophecy in the earth! Perchance in His grace and
mercy He will outpour His Spirit once again upon the earth, and
gather about his Holiness a band of men lighted by fire from above.
In our wandering friars, ever going forth to the people with the
word of the gospel, we have the office of evangelist in exercise;
and the priest who guides the flock and dwells in the midst of the
people of the land, surely he is the pastor, the keeper of the
sheep. And thus we see that our blessed Saviour's gifts to men have
been preserved all through these long centuries, and are still
amongst us in greater or less degree; and we can well understand
that having given us these channels, by which His vineyard is to be
watered, by which the living waters are to flow forth, it is not
His will that every man should be his own evangelist or pastor,
feeding himself at will, drinking, perhaps to surfeit, of the
precious waters which should be conveyed to him through the
appointed channel, but that he should be under dutiful obedience
and submission, and that thus and thus only may unity and peace be
preserved, and the body grow together into its perfect stature and
fullness."

"I see all that exactly," cried Bertram, "and I will strive to keep
it in mind. I mislike the very name of Lollard, and I well know
that they be a mischievous and pernicious brood, whom it were well
to see exterminated root and branch. Yet no man can fail to see
that they love the Scriptures, and I felt they were in the right
there. Now I well see that they may love the Word as much as they
will, but that they must still seek to be taught and fed by those
who are over them in the Church, and not seek to eat and drink (in
the spiritual sense of the word) at their own will and pleasure.
That is truly what the Church has ever taught, but I never heard it
so clearly explained before.

"Come, Julian; the sun is losing much of its power now. Let us
stroll along the margin of the stream, and see where best we may
fish upon the morrow.

"Edred, wilt thou come? No; I thought not. Thou art half a monk
already. We will leave thee with Brother Emmanuel to talk more on
these hard matters. I have heard enough to satisfy me, I shall
never want to turn Lollard now. The name was always enough, but now
I see more and more clearly how wrong-headed and wilful they be."

Julian, too, had got an answer that completely satisfied him, and