nts which
followed upon his admission within the walls of the Cistercian monks' home.

Of those first weeks within its walls Raymond always retained a vivid
remembrance, and they left upon him a mark that was never afterwards
effaced. He became aware of a new power stirring within him which he had
never hitherto dreamed of possessing.

As has before been said, Roger the woodman's son was carried into the
bare but spotlessly clean room upon the upper floor of the building
which was used for any of the sick of the community, and John was laid
in another of the narrow pallet beds, of which there were four in that
place. All this while Roger lay as if dead, in a trance that might be
one simply of exhaustion, or might be that strange sleep into which the
old sorcerer had for years been accustomed to throw him at will. Leaving
him thus passive and apparently lifeless (save that the heart's action
was distinctly perceptible), Father Paul busied himself over poor John,
who was found to be in pitiable plight; for his wound had opened with
the exertion of the long ride, and he had lost much blood before any one
knew the state he was in. For some short time his case was somewhat
critical, as the bleeding proved obstinate, and was checked with
difficulty; and but for Father Paul's accurate knowledge of surgery
(accurate for the times he lived in, at any rate), he would likely
enough have bled to death even as he lay.

Then whilst the kindly monks were bending over him, and Father Paul's
entire time and attention were given up to the case before him, so that
he dared not leave John's bedside for an instant, Roger suddenly uttered
a wild cry and sprang up in his bed, his lips parted, his eyes wide open
and fixed in a dreadful stare.

"I come! I come!" he cried, in a strange, muffled voice; and with a
rapidity and energy of which no one would have believed him capable who
had seen him lifted from the horse an hour before, he rose and strove to
push aside his father's detaining hand.

The old man uttered a bitter cry, and flung his arms about the boy.

"It has come! it has come! I knew it would. There is no hope, none! He
is theirs, body and soul. He will go back to them, and they will --"

The words were drowned in a wild cry, as the boy struggled so fiercely
that it was plain even the old man's frenzied strength would not suffice
to detain him long. Father Paul and the monk who was assisting him with
John could not move withou