monk came back, looking as proud as Punch, with a savoury
crustade ryal, or game pie gravied and spiced, for Gerard, and a silver
grace cup full of rich pimentum. This latter Gerard took, and bowing
low, first to the distant prior, then to his own company, quaffed, and
circulated the cup.

Instantly, to his surprise, the whole table hailed him as a brother:
"Art convent bred, deny it not?" He acknowledged it, and gave Heaven
thanks for it, for otherwise he had been as rude and ignorant as his
brothers, Sybrandt and Cornelis.

"But 'tis passing strange how you could know," said he.

"You drank with the cup in both hands," said two monks, speaking
together.

The voices had for some time been loudish round a table at the bottom
of the hall; but presently came a burst of mirth so obstreperous and
prolonged, that the prior sent the very sub-prior all down the hall to
check it, and inflict penance on every monk at the table. And Gerard's
cheek burned with shame; for in the heart of the unruly merriment his
ear had caught the word "courage!" and the trumpet tones of Denys of
Burgundy.

Soon Gerard was installed in feu Werter's cell, with wax lights, and a
little frame that could be set at any angle, and all the materials of
caligraphy. The work, however, was too much for one evening. Then came
the question, how could he ask Denys, the monk-hater, to stay longer?
However, he told him, and offered to abide by his decision. He was
agreeably surprised when Denys said graciously, "A day's rest will do
neither of us harm. Write thou, and I'll pass the time as I may."

Gerard's work was vastly admired; they agreed that the records of the
monastery had gained by poor Werter's death. The sub-prior forced a
rix-dollar on Gerard, and several brushes and colours out of the convent
stock, which was very large. He resumed his march warm at heart, for
this was of good omen; since it was on the pen he relied to make
his fortune and recover his well-beloved. "Come, Denys," said he
good-humouredly, "see what the good monks have given me; now, do try to
be fairer to them; for to be round with you, it chilled my friendship
for a moment to hear even you call my benefactors 'hypocrites.'"

"I recant," said Denys.

"Thank you! thank you! Good Denys."

"I was a scurrilous vagabond."

"Nay, nay, say not so, neither!"

"But we soldiers are rude and hasty. I give myself the lie, and I offer
those I misunderstood all my esteem. 'Tis unjust