The House of Walderne Part 28

Above the clatter of knives and dishes.

Now this Saint Guthlac was an abbot of Croyland, and many conflicts did he have with the devils of the fen country, whose presence could generally be ascertained by the hissing which took place when they settled with their fiery hoofs and claws on the wet swamps and moist sedges.

"And my brethren, certes we poor monks of Saint Benedict may learn much from these fiends; and first, from their hot and fiery tempers and bodies, we may be taught to say with Saint Ambrose:"

Quench thou the fires of hate and strife The wasting fevers of the heart.

At this moment a calf's head was brought in, very tender and succulent, and the rest of the quotation was drowned in the clatter of plates and dishes. At last the voice emerged from the tumult:

"Which I have seen in these fens, whither Satan and his imps do often resort to cool themselves in these stagnant waters. And first there be the misshapen, goggle-eyed goblins, with faces like the full moon, only never saw I the moon so hideous; these be the demons of sensuality, gluttony and sloth--libera nos Domine, and then there be . . ."

The wine was handed round, wine of Gascony, where the friars of Michelham had vineyards; full drinking, rich-bodied red wine, brought in huge jugs of earthenware, and poured generally into wooden mugs. Only the prior and subprior had silver goblets: gla.s.s there was none.

Again the voice rose above the din:

"Affect the fat soils of our marsh land, and there, maybe, find convenient prey amongst the idle and inebriate brethren who forget their vows, or the sottish loony who from the plough tail seek the ale house. And moreover there be your fiends, long and slim, and comely in garb, with tails of graceful curve, and horns like a comely heifer. Natheless their teeth be sharp and their claws fierce. But they hide them, for they would fain appear like angels of light, yet be they the demons of pride and cruelty, first-born of Lucifer, son of the morning . . ."

Here the sweets and pastries came in, fruits of the abbey gardens, skilfully preserved, and cunning devices of the baker: there was a church built of pie crust; a monk, baked brown and crisp, with raisins for his eyes, which, withal, filled his paunch, and, cannibal like, the good brethren ate him. Finally, that they, the brethren, might not be without a memento mori, was a sepulchre or altar tomb, likewise in crust, and when the top was broken, a goodly number of pigeons lurked beneath, lying in state:

"Which mop and mow, and chatter like starlings, but all, either naught in sense or naughty in meaning, oh these chattering goblins.

Be not like them, my brethren--libera nos Domine."

Here to those who sat at the upper board were next presented, by the serving brethren, dainty cups of hippocras, medicated against the damps and chills of the low grounds, or perchance the crudities of the stomach, or the cruel pinches of podagra dolorosa--

"Ah! will you say that agues, rheumatics, and all the other afflictions which do befall the brethren be simply bred of stagnant water and foul drinking? Nay, I say these hobgoblins give us them, and that even as Satan was permitted to afflict holy Job, so they afflict you. But we have not the patience of Job; would we had! Oh my brethren, slay me the little foxes which eat the tender grapes; your pride, anger, envy, hatred, gluttony, l.u.s.t, and sloth, and bring forth worthy fruits of penance; then may you all laugh at Satan and his misshapen offspring until in very shame they fly these fens--libera nos Domine."

Here the leader sang:

"Tu autem Domine, miserere n.o.bis."

And the whole brotherhood replied:

"Deo gratias."

The supper was ended, and the chapel bell began to ring for the final service of the day. The period of silence throughout the dormitories and pa.s.sages now began, and only stealthy footfalls broke the stillness of the summer night.

But the prior rang a silver bell: "tinkle, tinkle."

"Send me the elder of the two brethren of Saint Francis, him with the twinkling black eyes and roundish face."

And Martin was brought to him.

"Sit down, my young brother," said Prior Roger, "and tell me where I have seen thy face before. I have gazed upon thee all through the frugal meal of which we have just partaken, for thy face is like a face I have seen in a dream. Not that I doubt that thou art here in flesh and blood, unlike the fiends of Croyland, of whom we have just heard."

Martin smiled, and replied:

"My father, seven years agone, a n.o.ble earl found shelter here from the outlaws, from whom he was delivered by the self sacrifice of a woman, and the guidance of her son, an imp of some thirteen years."

"I remember Earl Simon's visit. Art thou that boy?"

"I am, my father."

"Ah well! ah me! how time pa.s.ses! But there is another remembrance which thy face awakens, of a death bed confession. Sub sigillo, perhaps I am wrong in putting the two things together. Sancte Benedicte ora pro me. So thou hast taken the habit of Saint Francis. Why didst not come to us, if thou wishedst to renounce the world and mortify the flesh?"

Martin was silent.

"And hast thou the gift of preaching? I do not mean of talking."

"My superiors thought so, but they are fallible."

"I should think so, very, but that is nought. I hope I have better sense than to send for thee, poor boy, to teach thee to rebel against thy superiors, and perhaps after all we Augustinians are too hard upon Franciscans and friars of low degree--only we want to get to heaven our own way, with our steady jog trot, and you go frisking, caracolling, curvetting, gambolling along. Well, I hope Saint Peter will let us all in at the last."

Martin was silent, out of respect to the age of the speaker.

"Thou art a modest boy; come, tell me, who was thy father?"

"An outlaw, long since dead."

"And thy mother?"

"His bride--but I know not of what parentage. There is a secret never disclosed to me, and which I shall never learn now, only I am a.s.sured that I was born in holy wedlock, and that a priest blessed the union."

"Did thy mother marry again?"

"She was compelled to accept one Grimbeard, a chief amongst the 'merrie men' who succeeded my father as their leader."

"Now, my son, I know why I looked at thee--I knew thy father. Nay, I administered the last rites of Holy Church to him. I was travelling through the woods and following a short route to the great abbey of Battle, when a band of the outlaws burst forth from an ambush.

"'Art thou a priest, portly father?' they said irreverently.

"'Good lack,' said I, 'I am, but little of worldly goods have I.

Thou wilt not plunder G.o.d's amba.s.sadors of their little all?'

"'Nay! But thou must come with us, and thy retinue must tarry here till we bring thee back.'

"'You will not harm me?' said I, fearing for my throat. 'It is as thou hearest a hoa.r.s.e one, and often sore, but it is my only one.'

"They laughed, and one said:

"'Nay, father, we swear by Him that died that we will bring thee safe here again ere sundown.'

"So they led me away, and anon they blindfolded me, and led my horse. What a mercy poor Whitefoot was sure footed, and did not stumble, for the way was parlous difficult.

"And at last they took the bandage from off mine eyes, and I saw I was in their encampment, in the innermost recesses of a swampy tangled wood. There, in a sort of better-most cabin, lay a young man, dying--wounded, as I afterwards learned, in an attack upon the Lord of Herst de Monceux.

"A goodly man of some thirty years was he, and a goodly end he made. He told me his story, and as the lips of dying men speak the truth, I believed him. He was the last representative of that English family which before the Conquest owned this very island and its adjacent woods and fields {24}. He was very like thee--he stands before me again in thee. Didst thou never hear of thy descent before?"

"That he was of the blood of the old English thanes I knew, but fallen from their once high estate. Had he lived he might have possessed me with the like feelings which prompted him: hatred of the foreigner, rebellion to G.o.d's dispensation, which gave the land to others. Even now as I speak, Christian though I am, I feel that such things might be, but I count them now as dross, and seek a goodlier heritage than Michelham."