much of these things. But to-day he had spoken of long journeyings
by sea and land; of perils by fire and flood; of wolves and bears, and
fierce snowstorms, and black nights in the lonely forest; of dark altars
of heathen gods, and weird, bloody sacrifices, and narrow escapes from
murderous bands of wandering savages.

The little novices had gathered around him, and their faces had grown
pale and their eyes bright as they listened with parted lips, entranced
in admiration, twining their arms about one another's shoulders and
holding closely together, half in fear, half in delight. The older
nuns had turned from their tasks and paused, in passing by, to bear the
pilgrim's story. Too well they knew the truth of what he spoke. Many a
one among them had seen the smoke rising from the ruins of her father's
roof. Many a one had a brother far away in the wild country to whom
her heart went out night and day, wondering if he were still among the
living.

But now the excitements of that wonderful day were over; the hour of the
evening meal had come; the inmates of the cloister were assembled in the
refectory.

On the dais sat the stately Abbess Addula, daughter of King Dagobert,
looking a princess indeed, in her purple tunic, with the hood and cuffs
of her long white robe trimmed with ermine, and a snowy veil resting
like a crown on her silver hair. At her right hand was the honoured
guest, and at her left hand her grandson, the young Prince Gregor, a
big, manly boy, just returned from school.

The long, shadowy hall, with its dark-brown rafters and beams; the
double row of nuns, with their pure veils and fair faces; the ruddy glow
of the slanting sunbeams striking upward through the tops of the windows
and painting a pink glow high up on the walls,--it was all as beautiful
as a picture, and as silent. For this was the rule of the cloister, that
at the table all should sit in stillness for a little while, and then
one should read aloud, while the rest listened.

"It is the turn of my grandson to read to-day," said the abbess to
Winfried; "we shall see how much he has learned in the school. Read,
Gregor; the place in the book is marked."

The lad rose from his seat and turned the pages of the manuscript.
It was a copy of Jerome's version of the Scriptures in Latin, and
the marked place was in the letter of St. Paul to the Ephesians,--the
passage where he describes the preparation of the Christian as a
warrior arming for ba