e, the
mystery of the grace of God in the heart of man."

"Many are the mysteries of God," said the Angel, "whereof even the
highest of the Archangels may not sustain the splendour, and this is
one of them. Howbeit, if thou wilt be patient and prayerful, and wilt
repose thy trust in the Lord Christ, I will strive to show thee two
pictures of thy very self--one, to wit, of the natural Adam in
Desiderius, and one of the man redeemed by the blood shed for thee. So
in some wise shalt thou come to some dim light of this mystery of grace
divine. Will that suffice thee?"

"That, Lord Angel, will suffice," said the monk, bowing low before the
Angel.

"Wait, then, and watch; and even in thy body and before thou diest thou
shalt behold as I have said."

Therewith the Angel left him, and Desiderius was aware of but the walls
and pillars of the cloister, and the bright vast plain, and, far away,
the city of Sarras glittering, and the smoke sleeping like a small blue
cloud above it. And the coming and going of the Angel was after this
manner. Desiderius perceived him, bright in the brightness of the
sunshine, as one perceives a morsel of clear ice floating in clear
water; and when Desiderius saw him no more it was as though the clear
ice had melted into the clear water.

Now after the lapse of three short years, and when he was but in his
thirtieth summer, Desiderius was summoned from his cell on the lonely
mountain, and, despite his tears and supplications and his
protestations of ignorance and inexperience and extreme youth, made
Archbishop of Sarras. Only one answer was vouchsafed to him. "One of
thy vows was entire obedience, and the grace of God is sufficient for
thee."

In that same year a horde of the fierce Avars poured out from the round
green earth-walls of their mysterious stronghold, which lay beyond
Danube, and, crossing the river, fell on Sarras; and clashing with that
ravening horde, Astulf the King of Sarras was slain.

Ill had it then fared with the folk of Sarras, city and plain alike,
but for a certain Talisso, a free-rider, who from a green knoll had
watched the onset. When he saw the slaying of the King, he plunged
into the battle, cleaving his way through the ranks of squat and
swarthy Avars; and heartening the men of Sarras with his ringing cheer
and battle-laughter, shaped them into wedges of sharp iron and drove
them home through the knotted wood of their foemen, till the Avars fled
hot-f