--yet she has a soul to be saved;
yes, undoubtedly. I will see what I can do. There are only about a
dozen leaves of the missal,--and then that treatise on grace of
congruity that I promised the Abbot of Ham--and,--let me see! I believe
I engaged to write something for the Prior of Saint Albans. What was
it, now? Where are my tables? Oh, here!--yes,--ah! that would not take
long: a week might do it, I think. I will see,--I really will see,
Brother Bruno,--when these little matters are disposed of,--what I can
do for the girl."

"Do! Give her ratsbane!" sneered Warner laconically.

Bruno's reply was a quotation.

"`While thy servant was busy here and there, he was gone.'"

Then he rose and left the room.

"Dear, dear!" said Father Nicholas. "Our brother Bruno means well,--
very well indeed, I am sure: but those enthusiastic people like him--
don't you think they are very unsettling, Brother Warner? Really, he
has made me feel quite uncomfortable. Why, the world would have to be
turned upside down! We could never write, nor paint, nor cultivate
letters--we should have to be incessantly preaching and confessing
people."

"Stuff! The fellow's an ass!" was Father Warner's decision. "_Ha,
chetife_!--what has become of that little monkey, Damsel Marie? I must
go and see after her."

And he followed his colleague. Father Nicholas gathered his papers
together, and from the silence that ensued, the girls gathered that the
ante-chamber was deserted.

"Belasez," said Doucebelle that night, as she was brushing her hair--the
two slept in the wardrobe--"wert thou very angry with Father Bruno, this
morning?"

Belasez looked up quickly.

"With _him_? No! I thought--"

But the thought progressed no further till Doucebelle said--"Well?"

"I thought," said Belasez, combing out her own hair very energetically,
"that I had at last found even a Christian priest who was worthy of him
of whom the Bishop of Lincoln preached,--him whom you believe to be
Messiah."

"Then," said Doucebelle, greatly delighted, "thou wilt listen to Father
Bruno, if he talks to thee?"

"I would not if I could help it," was Belasez's equivocal answer.

"Belasez, I cannot quite understand thee. Sometimes thou seemest so
different from what thou art at other times."

"Because I am different. Understand me! Do I understand myself? The
Holy One--to whom be praise!--He understands us all."

"But sometimes thou art willing to hear