sleep.

Now before sunrise, whilst it was yet early, he was awakened by the
voice of the hermit crying, "My Son, my dear Son!" and he jumped up,
saying, "My Father!"

But as he spoke the hermit passed him. And as he passed he turned, and
the boy saw that his eyes were open. And the hermit fixed them long
and tenderly on him.

Then the boy cried, "Ah, tell me, my Father, dost thou see?"

And he answered, "_I see now!_" and so passed on down the walk.

And as he went through the garden, in the still dawn, the boy
trembled, for the hermit's footsteps gave no sound. And he passed
beyond the rosemary bush, and came not again.

And when the day wore on, and the hermit did not return, the boy went
into his cell.

Without, the sunshine dried the dew from paths on which the hermit's
feet had left no prints, and cherished the Spring flowers bursting
into bloom. But within, the hermit's dead body lay stretched upon his
pallet, and the Trinity Flower was in his hand.

LADDERS TO HEAVEN.

A LEGEND.[8]

There was a certain valley in which the grass was very green, for it
was watered by a stream which never failed; and once upon a time
certain pious men withdrew from the wide world and from their separate
homes, and made a home in common, and a little world for themselves,
in the valley where the grass was green.

[Footnote 8: "Ladders to Heaven" was an old name for Lilies of the
Valley.]

The world outside, in those days, was very rough and full of wars; but
the little world in the Green Valley was quiet and full of peace. And
most of these men who had taken each other for brothers, and had made
one home there, were happy, and being good deserved to be so. And some
of them were good with the ignorant innocence of children, and there
were others who had washed their robes and made them white in the
Blood of the Lamb.

Brother Benedict was so named, because where he came blessings
followed. This was said of him, from a child, when the babies stopped
crying if he ran up to them, and when on the darkest days old women
could see sunbeams playing in his hair. He had always been fond of
flowers, and as there were not many things in the Brotherhood of the
Green Valley on which a man could full-spend his energies, when
prayers were said, and duties done, Brother Benedict spent the balance
of his upon the garden. And he grew herbs for healing, and plants that
were good for food, and flowers that were only pleasant to