kly, in the comfortable reflection that the others were
already part-way to Laach. To their disgust as they crossed the bridge
over the Moselle, they found Peter and his companion lolling outside
an inn, unable to talk properly or to stand upright. The Prior's
warning against the Devil had been speedily justified. Peter had been
tempted to spend his last day of freedom in a carouse, and every penny
he possessed had gone over a fine dinner and costly wines.

To Butzbach this was the more serious, because he had given his purse
to Peter to carry, and all that had gone too. Johannisberg still had
strong ties for him. He had found peace there and made friends, and it
was near his home. Many times, at silent moments as he journeyed along
from Deventer, it had come into his head to wonder whether Laach too
could give him peace, whether he could settle so far off. Now, if the
old ties should be too strong to resist, thanks to Peter, he would
have to set out on his way penniless.

Sharp words brought the offenders to some measure of their senses; but
it was a dismal party that splashed along the muddy roads that
December afternoon. Evening brought them to Saffig, and hospitable
reception in the house of George von Leyen, brother of the Prior of
Niederwerth and father of the Abbot to whom they were going; and the
parents' praises of their son's goodness and kindness were comforting
to hear. Ten miles next morning brought them to Laach; and when they
came over the hill, and saw the great abbey with its towers and dome
beside the lake, which even in winter could smile amid its woods,
Butzbach felt that in all his travels he had seen no sight more
lovely. Their guide led them straight into the church, and as
Butzbach's eye glanced along the plain Romanesque columns, past the
gorgeous tomb of the founder, to the dim splendours of the choir, the
words of the familiar Psalm rose to his lips: 'Haec requies mea in
saeculum saeculi; hic habitabo, quoniam elegi eam.' Peace had come to
him at once, and he received it.

After a generous meal in the refectory they were brought in to the
tall, dignified Abbot; and while they stood before him answering his
questions, they felt that he had not been praised more highly than was
his due. Abbot and Prior took them round the monastery; the latter a
busy little man in whom they could hardly recognize so exalted a
dignitary. At the back they found the brethren busy with the week's
washing. All cro