he said with decision.
"Muffle up until you are well out of Bishopsgate Street, where it still
snows."

"But how did you get the keys?" said Brother Bones.

"From under the Father Superior's door-mat."

"But that was wrong, Brother."

"The mat bore the inscription, 'Salve,' which you know in Latin means
'Welcome,'" returned John Gale. "It was logically a permission."

The two men gazed at each other silently. A shudder passed over the
two left eyelids of their wan spiritual faces.

"But I have no money," said Brother Bones.

"Nor have I. But here is a 'bus ticket and a free pass to the Gaiety.
You will probably find Golly somewhere about. Tell her," he said in a
hollow voice, "that I'm getting on."

"I will," said Brother Bones, with a deep cough.

The gate opened and he disappeared in the falling snow. The bloodhound
kept by the monastery--one of the real Bishopsgate breed--bayed twice,
and licked its huge jaws in ghastly anticipation. "I wonder," said
John Gale as he resumed his shoveling, "if I have done exactly right.
Candor compels me to admit that it is an open question."

BOOK V

Early the next morning, Brother Bones was brought home by Policeman X,
his hat crushed, his face haggard, his voice husky and unintelligible.
He only said vaguely, "Washertime?"

"It is," said John Gale timidly, in explanation to Policeman X, "a case
of spiritual exhaustion following a vigil."

"That warn't her name," said Policeman X sternly. "But don't let this
'ere appen again."

John Gale turned to Brother Bones. "Then you saw her--Golly?"

"No," said Brother Bones.

"Why? What on earth have you been doing?"

"Dunno! Found myself in stashun--zis morning! Thashall!"

Then John Gale sought the Superior in an agony of remorse, and
confessed all. "I am unfit to remain doorkeeper. Remove me," he
groaned bitterly.

The old man smiled gently. "On the contrary, I should have given you
the keys myself. Hereafter you can keep them. The ways of our
Brotherhood are mysterious,--indeed, you may think idiotic,--but we are
not responsible for them. It's all Brother Caine's doing--it's 'All
Caine!"

BOOK VI

Nevertheless, John Gale left the monastery. "The Bishopsgate Street
winter does not suit me," he briefly explained to the Superior. "I
must go south or southwest."

But he did neither. He saw Golly, who was living west. He upbraided
her for going on the stage. She retorted: "Whose life is