m, no branches can
tear them. Yet more than one pair of these have I outworn, and many
more shall I outwear ere my journeys are ended. And I think, if God is
gracious to me, that I shall die wearing them. Better so than in a
soft bed with silken coverings. The boots of a warrior, a hunter, a
woodsman,--these are my preparation of the gospel of peace.

"Come, Gregor," he said, laying his brown hand on the youth's shoulder,
"come, wear the forester's boots with me. This is the life to which we
are called. Be strong in the Lord, a hunter of the demons, a subduer of
the wilderness, a woodsman of the faith. Come."

The boy's eyes sparkled. He turned to his grandmother. She shook her
head vigorously.

"Nay, father," she said, "draw not the lad away from my side with these
wild words. I need him to help me with my labours, to cheer my old age."

"Do you need him more than the Master does?" asked Winfried; "and will
you take the wood that is fit for a bow to make a distaff?"

"But I fear for the child. Thy life is too hard for him. He will perish
with hunger in the woods."

"Once," said Winfried, smiling, "we were camped on the bank of the river
Ohru. The table was set for the morning meal, but my comrades cried
that it was empty; the provisions were exhausted; we must go without
breakfast, and perhaps starve before we could escape from the
wilderness. While they complained, a fish-hawk flew up from the river
with flapping wings, and let fall a great pike in the midst of the camp.
There was food enough and to spare! Never have I seen the righteous
forsaken, nor his seed begging bread."

"But the fierce pagans of the forest," cried the abbess,--"they may
pierce the boy with their arrows, or dash out his brains with their
axes. He is but a child, too young for the danger and the strife."

"A child in years," replied Winfried, "but a man in spirit. And if the
hero fall early in the battle, he wears the brighter crown, not a leaf
withered, not a flower fallen."

The aged princess trembled a little. She drew Gregor close to her side,
and laid her hand gently on his brown hair. "I am not sure that he wa
there is no horse in the stable to give him, now, and he cannot go as
befits the grandson of a king."

Gregor looked straight into her eyes.

"Grandmother," said he, "dear grandmother, if thou wilt not give me a
horse to ride with this man of God, I will go with him afoot."

II

Two years had passed since that Ch