CHAPTER X
Brother Anselm had been transferred, it seemed, from Westforest toSilver Cross. Richard Englefield found him here, and in the cell thathad been Brother Oswald’s. The latter, with Brothers Peter, Allen andTimothy, were gone into dormitory. Only Brother Norbert was left. Inthe six cells dwelled Brother Anselm, Brother Norbert and himself.There had been other changes. A great rood was put up in his cell.Broad and dark, a poor wooden Christ hanging thereon, it overspreada third of one side of the cell. It stood there, shadowy against ashadowy wall, as all the cell was shadowy,--the thin winter lightstealing in by day, the one taper by night.
Richard Englefield the goldsmith had seen many a great rood in Englandand France and Italy. He had seen poor carving, rude and strugglingthought and unskilful hand, hardly attaining to truth, hardly tostrength, hardly to beauty. But beauty and strength and truth had beenlonged for. This carving, this rood, showed him no such thing. “Not theway it is done, but the dream is wrong.” It grew faintly horrible tohim.
The long winter days, the knees upon stone. “O God, O God! Where islight, where is meaning? In me is wold and thicket and bog and thestars put out!”
Only the picture stayed with him, made somehow significance, somehowwarmth. Now it paled and now it glowed.
He ate little, slept little. He crucified his body. Like the insistentsweet ringing of a bell, forever, forever, Silver Cross suggested,suggested. Surely, in some sort, heaven should descend! He was earningit. He began to have visions, but they were pale, confused, formswithout significance or with the significance hidden. They said naughtthat might lift the Abbey of Silver Cross to a height that should equalSaint Leofric’s mount.
Twelfth night--Candlemas Day--Lent in sight--and Saint Leofric blazinghigh! Not that only, but Middle Forest beginning to manifest holinessand uncloak sin. Father Edmund of Saint Ethelred had no vision but thevision of a rod for the wicked. But he had a preaching power! He stoodupon the steps of town cross and his white heat turned the icicles towater. The sinner, Morgen Fay, was fled,--none knew whither. They saidlikely to London town. They sacked her house, they drummed the oldwoman and the youth, her servants, out of town. Both sides of riverand up Wander vale, enthusiasm gathered light in eyes, red in cheeks.There began to be prophets and religious dancers. In Middle Forest HighStreet appeared a band of flagellants. The air was taking fire. “Now,now or never!” said Prior Matthew.
The ruined farm, that had been small and poor even before fire had halfdestroyed it, stood gaunt, blackened, sunk in loneliness behind winterforest through which few walked. Margery and David, blear-eyed andsimple, living in the part that held together, found the helper-woman,Joan, strong but moody, now ready to laugh at a little thing and nowdark as a tempest over the wood that shut out the world. Somerville themaster had said, “Take her!” They had obeyed, and if they speculated itwas sluggishly.
Past the holly copse stretched land of Silver Cross, woodland with awoodman’s path through. Somerville came by this. He talked with Joan orwith Morgen Fay under the hollies where the berries were so red and theleaves so glossy and barbed. She said vehemently, “No!” and she said,“No!” and “No!” again, but more dully, pettishly.
“It’s sin. I’ve done much, but I haven’t done that!”
“You choose then a powerful enemy--”
She raised her arms above her head. “If you will show me where theworld is not wicked--!”
“Psha! Do you remember a foggy night when we talked? Return to thatmood and say, ‘It is a play, and I can do it wonderfully!’ Youcould--you can!”
“I do not see that Abbot Mark can harm me more than I am harmed!”
“Think you so? Should there come a band of monks to break the houseand hale you forth--strip you and fling you into Wander, or maybe intofire? If Silver Cross but speaks to Saint Ethelred, Abbot Mark toFather Edmund? If I withdraw my hand? Do not look like a queen in abook! I mean only that in no wise can I save you further. Montjoy isnot powerful enough, even if he would, and I have here less power ofarm than has he. You must save yourself.”
“I think that your Abbot Mark and Prior Matthew are devils!”
“No. They are not. They are honest men trying to assure and increasethat which they hold to be their own. Human stuff, even as you and I!”
“Human stuff! Well, I would choose another stuff if I might!”
“No, you would not, poor Morgen Fay, by the chill Wander! You chosethis. Well, will you, or will you not?”
“I will not.”
“You think that you will not. However, you will. If you do not you arelost.”
“Lost to what?”
“Well, to ease--to your own kind of command--finally perhaps to yourlife.”
She said in a strangled voice. “As I came here to this house so will Iwalk on by day or by night and come to another town.”
He turned quickly. “Try it!--or rather do not try it! You will findthat you cannot.”
The holly berries were red, the leaves glossy and barbed. She lookedat the pale winter sky. “Is it sky? It seems to me a poor tent that wehave struggled to get up--poor, mean, low, ragged. I would it mightfall and kill us!”
He smiled indulgently. “No, you do not so! Any day you could killyourself. But you love life. Go to, now! Look at the curious danceof the time correctly! Mumming is no great sin. What! All the saintsand higher than the saints were on the market-place stage last MiddleForest Fair. They talked and walked--even the Highest! Very good! It isbut Miracle Play again, and truly for no ill ends--”
Red holly berries, barbed leaves. He won her to stand and listen,though with heaving bosom and dark brows. Pale sky and voice of Wanderand birds of winter in naked oak and beech. The ruined farm--and herhouse above the river and her garden turned against her. Father Edmundpreaching at town cross against the wicked time and each remainingsin--and they had swept up her house and garden and drummed forthAilsa and Tony, who were God knew where! And Montjoy nor any cared anylonger! Barbed leaves and miserable world bent on injury! He won her tonod her head and then to break into reckless laughter.