Abbey; for Brother Stephen had been ill
for a time, and unable to paint, and all the other monks had
colour-grinders of their own. So Gabriel, who could not afford to be
idle even for a few days, had been forced to seek employment elsewhere.

The only work he could find was with a leather dresser in the village of
St. Martin's, and though it was very hard and distasteful to him, he
felt that he must keep at it, as he could thus earn a few pennies more
each day than he could as colour-grinder at the Abbey. And yet, with all
his hard toil, the little sum he brought home at night was far from
enough to keep them all from want, to say nothing of paying the tax
which still hung over them; and so every day they became more hopeless
and discouraged.

Indeed, in those times, when a peasant family fell under the displeasure
of their noble lord, it was a bitter misfortune, for there were few
places to which they might turn for help.

And it seemed to Gabriel especially hard to bear all their troubles in
the gracious Christmas season; for it was now past the middle of
December. Always before they had had enough for their happy little
Christmas feast, and some to spare. They had always had their sheaf of
wheat put by for the birds; and for two seasons past Gabriel's father
had let him climb up the tall ladder and fasten the holiday sheaf, bound
with its garland of greens, to the roof of the little peaked and gabled
dovecote that stood on top of a carved pole in the centre of the
farmyard. For every Norman peasant always wishes the birds, too, to be
happy at the joyous Christmas-tide.

And always, every Christmas eve, when Gabriel and his little brothers
and sister had gone to bed, they had set their wooden shoes in a row on
the hearthstone; and then in the morning when they wakened up, they
always found that the blessed Christ-child had been there in the night,
and filled all the little shoes with red apples and nuts.

But this Christmas-time everything was so sad and changed, they were
sure even the Christ-child would forget them. And, day by day, the
little supply of coarse meal for their black bread grew smaller and
smaller, and the snow became deeper, and the wintry winds blew more cold
and cruelly.

Meantime, King Louis's messenger was travelling as fast as he could,
and three days before Christmas he arrived at St. Martin's Abbey. The
Abbot was greatly surprised to see him, and still more so when he asked
if he might s