spleased
Brother Stephen, for he had kept him waiting a long while, and worse
still, had spilled the best egg there was in the kitchen! However, the
lad begged one of the cooks to let him have another egg, and, whisking
it up as quickly as he could, made haste to carry it to the
chapter-house.

As he pushed open the door, Brother Stephen said, sharply, "How now! I
thought they had chained thee to one of the tables of the kitchen!"

"I am so sorry," said Gabriel, his face very red,--"but--I--I spilled
the first egg and had to make ready another."

He hoped Brother Stephen would not ask him how he happened to spill it;
for by this time he began to realize that the high-spirited monk
probably had reasons of his own for submitting to the punishment of the
chain, and that very likely he would be displeased if he knew that his
little colour-grinder had asked the Abbot to free him. So Gabriel felt
much relieved when, without further questions, Brother Stephen went on
with his work, in which for the moment he was greatly absorbed.

And thus the day went quietly on, till early in the afternoon; when, to
the great surprise of both of them, the door slowly opened, and in
walked the Abbot himself.

The Abbot was haughty, as usual, and, as Brother Stephen saw him come
in, he raised his head with an involuntary look of pride and resentment;
but neither spoke as the Abbot stepped over to the table, and examined
the page on which the monk was working.

This particular page happened to be ornamented with a wide border of
purple flag-flowers, copied from some Gabriel had gathered the day
before in a swampy corner of one of the wayside meadows. Their fresh
green leaves and rich purple petals shone with royal effect against the
background of gold; while hovering over them, and clinging to their
stems, were painted honey-bees, with gauzy wings, and soft,
furry-looking bodies of black and gold.

As the Abbot saw how beautiful it all was, and how different from any
other of the Abbey illuminations, he smiled to himself with pleasure.
For the Abbot, though he never said a great deal, yet very well knew a
good piece of artistic work when he saw it. Instead of merely smiling to
himself, however, it would have made Brother Stephen much happier if he
had taken the trouble to say aloud some of the nice things he was
thinking about the work.

For Brother Stephen felt very bitter as he thought over all he had been
made to bear; and even as