CHAPTER II.
BROTHER STEPHEN'S INSPIRATION
GABRIEL knew nothing of Brother Stephen's troubles, and so was smilinghappily as he stepped into the room, holding his cap in one hand, whilewith his other arm he hugged to him his large bunch of violets andcuckoo-buds. Indeed he looked so bright and full of life that evenBrother Stephen felt the effect of it, and his frown began to smooth outa little as he said:
"Well, my lad, who art thou?"
"I am Gabriel Viaud, Brother Stephen," answered the boy, "and I havecome to help you; for they told me Jacques is fallen ill. What would youlike me to do first?"
To this Brother Stephen scarcely knew what to reply. He was certainly inno mood for work. He was still very, very angry, and thought himselfterribly misused by the Abbot; and though he greatly dreaded thelatter's threats, he had almost reached the point of defying him and theking and everybody else, no matter what dreadful thing happened to himafterward.
But then as he looked again at the bright-faced little boy standingthere, and seeming so eager to help, he began to relent more and more;and besides, he found it decidedly embarrassing to try to explain thingsto Gabriel.
So after a little pause, he said to him: "Gabriel, I am not ready forthee at this moment; go sit on yonder bench. I wish to think out amatter which is perplexing me." Then as Gabriel obediently went over tothe bench and seated himself, he added: "Thou canst pass the timelooking at the books on the shelf above thee."
So while Brother Stephen was trying to make up his mind as to what hewould do, Gabriel took down one of the books, and was soon absorbed inits pages. Presently, as he turned a new one, he gave a littleinvoluntary exclamation of delight. At this Brother Stephen noticed him,and--
"Ah!" he said, "what hast thou found that seems to please thee?"
"Oh, sir," answered Gabriel, "this is the most beautiful initial letterI have ever seen!"
Now Gabriel did not know that the book had been made a few years beforeby Brother Stephen himself, and so he had no idea how much it pleasedthe brother to have his work admired.
Indeed, most people who do good work of any kind oftentimes feel theneed of praise; not flattery, but the real approval of some one whounderstands what they are trying to do. It makes the workman or artistfeel that if his work is liked by somebody, it is worth while to try todo more and better.
Poor Brother Stephen did not get much of this needed praise, for many ofthe other monks at the Abbey were envious of him, and so were unwillingreally to admire his work; while the Abbot was so cold and haughty andso taken up with his own affairs, that he seldom took the trouble to saywhat he liked or disliked.
So when Brother Stephen saw Gabriel's eager admiration, he felt pleasedindeed; for Gabriel had a nice taste in artistic things, and seemedinstinctively to pick out the best points of anything he looked at. Andwhen, in his enthusiasm, he carried the book over and began to tellBrother Stephen why he so much admired the painting, without knowing it,he really made the latter feel happier than he had felt for many a day.He began to have a decided notion that he would paint King Louis's bookafter all. And just then, as if to settle the matter, he happened toglance at the corner of the table where Gabriel had laid down his bunchof flowers as he came in.
It chanced that some of the violets had fallen from the cluster anddropped upon a broad ruler of brass that lay beside the paintingmaterials. And even as Brother Stephen looked, it chanced also that alittle white butterfly drifted into the room through the bars of thehigh, open window; after vaguely fluttering about for a while, at last,attracted by the blossoms, it came, and, poising lightly over theviolets on the ruler, began to sip the honey from the heart of one ofthem.
As Brother Stephen's artistic eye took in the beauty of effect made bythe few flowers on the brass ruler with the butterfly hovering overthem, he, too, gave a little exclamation, and his eyes brightened and hesmiled; for he had just got a new idea for an illuminated border.
"Yes," he said to himself, "this would be different from any I have yetseen! I will decorate King Louis's book with borders of gold; and on thegold I will paint the meadow wildflowers, and the bees and butterflies,and all the little flying creatures."
Now before this, all the borders of the Abbey books had been painted, inthe usual manner of the time, with scrolls and birds and flowers more orless conventionalized; that is, the artists did not try to make themlook exactly like the real ones, but twisted them about in all sorts offantastic ways. Sometimes the stem of a flower would end in thecurled-up folds of a winged dragon, or a bird would have strangeblossoms growing out of his beak, or perhaps the tips of his wings.
These borders were indeed exquisitely beautiful, but Brother Stephenwas just tired of it all, and wanted to do something quite different; sohe was delighted with his new idea of painting the field-flowers exactlylike nature, only placing them on a background of gold.
As he pictured in his mind one page after another thus adorned, hebecame more and more interested and impatient to begin at once. Heforgot all about his anger at the Abbot; he forgot everything else,except that he wanted to begin King Louis's book as quickly as possible!
And so he called briskly to Gabriel, who meantime had reseated himselfon his bench:
"Gabriel, come hither! Canst thou rule lines without blotting? Canstthou make ink and grind colours and prepare gold size?"
"Yes, sir," said Gabriel, surprised at the monk's eager manner, "I haveworked at all these things."
"Good!" replied Brother Stephen. "Here is a piece of parchment thoucanst cut and prepare, and then rule it, thus" (and here he showed himhow he wished it done), "with scarlet ink. But do not take yonder brassruler! Here is one of ivory thou canst use instead."
And then as Gabriel went to work, Brother Stephen, taking a goose-quillpen and some black ink, began skilfully and carefully to make drawingsof the violets as they lay on the ruler, not forgetting the whitebutterfly which still hovered about. The harder he worked the happier hegrew; hour after hour passed, till at last the dinner time came, andGabriel, who was growing very hungry, could hear the footsteps of thebrothers, as they marched into the large dining-room where they all atetogether.
Brother Stephen, however, was so absorbed that he did not noticeanything; till, by and by, the door opened, and in came two monks, onecarrying some soup and bread and a flagon of wine. As they entered,Brother Stephen turned quickly, and was about to rise, when all at oncehe felt the tug of the chain still fastened about the leg of the table;at this his face grew scarlet with shame, and he sank back in hischair.
Gabriel started with surprise, for he had not before seen the chain,partly hidden as it was by the folds of the brother's robe. As helooked, one of the two monks went to the table, and, with a key which hecarried, unlocked the chain so Brother Stephen might have a half-hour'sliberty while he ate. The monks, however, stayed with him to keep an eyeon his movements; and meantime they told Gabriel to go out to the Abbeykitchen and find something for his own dinner.
As Gabriel went out along the corridor to the kitchen, his heart swelledwith pity! Why was Brother Stephen chained? He tried to think, andremembered that once before he had seen one of the brothers chained to atable in the writing-room because he was not diligent enough with hiswork,--but Brother Stephen! Was he not working so hard? And howbeautiful, too, were his drawings! The more Gabriel thought of it themore indignant he grew. Indeed, he did not half-enjoy the bread andsavoury soup made of black beans, that the cook dished out for him; hetook his wooden bowl, and sitting on a bench, ate absently, thinking allthe while of Brother Stephen.
When he had finished he went back to the chapter-house and found theother monks gone and Brother Stephen again chained. Gabriel felt muchembarrassed to have been obliged to see it; and when Brother Stephen,pointing to the chain, said bitterly, "Thou seest they were afraid Iwould run away from my work," the lad was so much at a loss to know whatto say, that he very wisely said nothing.
Now Brother Stephen, though he
had begun the book as the Abbot wished,yet he had by no means the meek and penitent spirit which also the Abbotdesired of him, and which it was proper for a monk to have.
And so if the truth must be told, each time the other monks came in tochain him, he felt more than anything else like seizing both of them,and thrusting them bodily out of the door, or at least trying to do so.But then he could not forget the Abbot's threat if he showeddisobedience; and he had been brought up to dread the ban of the Churchmore than anything else that could possibly happen to him, because hebelieved that this would make him unhappy, not only in this life, but inthe life to come. And so he smothered his feelings and tried to bear thehumiliation as patiently as he could.
Gabriel could not help but see, however, that it took him some time toregain the interest he had felt in his work, and it was not until theafternoon was half-gone that he seemed to forget his troubles enoughreally to have heart in the pages he was making.
When dusk fell, Gabriel picked up and arranged his things in order, andbidding Brother Stephen good night, trudged off home.