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singing;   for   the   day's   work   was   done。     In   the   courtyard   of   the   〃Black 

Boar〃   a   chained   bear   padded   restlessly   to   and   fro;   and   Hilarius   crossed 

himself anxiously  … was   the   devil about   to beset   him  under all   guises   at 

once?      He raised a fervent Ora pro me to St Benedict as he hurried past。 

A string of pack…horses in the narrow street sent folk flying for refuge to 

the low dark doorways; and a buxom wench; seeing the pretty lad; bussed 

him     soundly。    This     was   too   much;     only   the  man    in   him   stayed    the 

indignant tears。       〃Martin; Martin!〃 he cried; but the minstrel was on his 

own ground now; and was hailed everywhere with acclamations; and news 

given   and   demanded   in   a   breath。      Hilarius;   shrinking;   aghast;   his   ears 

scourged with rough oaths and rude   jests; his eyes offended by the   easy 

manners round him; his cheek hot from the late salute; took refuge under a 

low archway; and waited with anxious heart until the minstrel should have 

done with the crowd。 

     Martin did not forget him。 

     〃Hole; lad!〃 he cried; 〃see how they welcome the King's bird back to 

his cage!      As for thee; thou hast gone straight to thy cot like a homing 

pigeon;     through     that   archway;     lad;   lies  thy   journey's     end。〃     Then; 

apprehending        for  the  first  time   Hilarius'   white    face   and   piteous    eyes; 

Martin strode across; swept him under the archway into a quiet courtyard 

where     a  fountain    rippled;    and;  having     handed    him   over    to  Sir  John's 

steward;   left   him   with   a   friendly   slap   on   the   back   and   the   promise   of 

speedy meeting。 

     Hilarius   delivered   the   Prior's   letter;   and   followed   the   steward   into   a 

rush…strewn       hall   where     scullions    and    serving…men       were    busy    with 

preparations for the evening meal; and sat there; lonely and dejected; his 

curiosity   quenched;   his   heart   sore;   his   whole   being   crying   out   for   the 

busied   peace   and   silent   orderliness   of   his   cloister   home。    The   servants 



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gibed at him; but he was too weary to heed; indeed he hardly noticed when 

the household swept in to supper; until a page…boy tweaked him slyly by 

the   ear   and   bade   him   come   to   table。 He   ate   and   drank   thankfully;   too 

dazed to take note of the meal; and the pages and squires among whom he 

sat left him alone; abashed at his gentleness。             At last; something restored 

by the much…needed food; Hilarius looked round the hall。 

     It reminded him of the Refectory at home; save that it was far loftier 

and    heavily    timbered。      The    twilight    stealing   in   through    high   lancet 

windows   served   but   to  emphasize the upper   gloom;  which   the   morrow's 

sun would dissipate into cunningly carved woodwork … a man's thought in 

every quaintly wrought boss and panel; grotesque beast and guarding saint。 

A raised table stood at the upper end of the hall; and here gaily  dressed 

pages     waited    on   the   master    of  the   house    and   his   honoured     guests。 

Hilarius rightly guessed the tall; careworn man of distinguished presence 

to be no other than Sir John himself; and he liked him well; but his eyes 

wandered carelessly over the rest of the company until they were caught 

and   held by  a   woman's   face。      It   was   Eleanor;   the  fairest of   the  knight's 

three fair daughters; and when Hilarius saw her he felt as a weary traveller 

feels who meets a fellow citizen in a far…off land。 

     〃Even such a face must the Blessed Agnes have had;〃 he thought; his 

mind reverting to his favourite Saint; 〃she is like the lilies in the garth at 

home。〃 

     It was a strange comparison; for the girl was extravagantly dressed in 

costly materials and brilliant colours; her hair coifed in the foolish French 

fashion of the day; and yet; despite it all; she looked a nun。              Her face was 

pale;  her   brows   set   straight;   her   eyes;   save   when   she   was   much   moved; 

were   like   grey   shadows   veiling   an   unknown   soul;   her   mouth;   delicately 

curved;   was   scarcely   reddened;   her   head   drooped   slightly   on   her   long; 

slender   neck;   a   gesture   instinct   with   gracious   humility。    She   was   like   a 

pictured saint: Hilarius' gaze clung to her; followed her as she left the hall; 

and saw her still as he sat apart while the serving men cleared the lower 

tables and brought in the sleeping gear for the night。                He lay down with 

the   rest;   and   through   the  high;  lancet   windows   the   moonlight   kissed   his 

white and weary face as it was wont to do on bright nights in the cloister 



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dormitory。      Around   him   men   lay   sleeping   soundly   after   the   day's   toils; 

there was none to heed; and he sobbed like a little homesick child; until his 

tired youth triumphed; and he fell asleep; to dream of Martin and the Prior; 

the lady at the raised table; and the pale; sweet lilies in the cloister garth。 



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         THE GATHERING OF BROTHER HILARIUS 



PART II … THE FLOWER 



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                        THE GATHERING OF BROTHER HILARIUS 



            CHAPTER I … THE CITY OF PURE GOLD 



     〃BLIND eyes; blind eyes!〃 sang the dancer。 

     Hilarius   woke   with   a   start。   He   had   fallen   asleep   on   a   bench   in   the 

sunny courtyard and his dream had carried him back to the forest。 He sat 

rubbing his eyes and only half…awake; the sun kissing his hair into a halo 

against the old grey wall。          A falcon near fretted restlessly on her perch; 

and a hound asleep by the fountain rose; and; slowly stretching its great 

limbs; came towards him。 

     It   was   four   o'clock   on   a   warm  day   in   September;   the   courtyard   was 

deserted     save    for  a  few   busied    serving    men;    and   the  knight    and   his 

household; were at a tilting in the Outer Bailey; all but the Lady Eleanor; 

Hilarius' mistress; for; as Martin had foreseen; Sir John had so appointed 

it。 

     It was now two months since Hilarius had come to the city which had 

seemed to him in the distance as the New Jerusalem full of promise; but he 

had found no angels at the gates; nor were the streets full of the righteous; 

nay;   the   place   seemed   nearer   of   kin   to   the   Babylon   of   Blessed   John's 

Vision     …  with   a  few    holy   ones   who     would    surely   be   caught    up   ere 

judgment fell; amongst them Sir John and Lady Eleanor。 

     A   good   knight   and   a   God…fearing   man   was   Sir   John;   tender   to   his 

children;     gentle   with    his  people;    a  faithful   servant   to  God     and   King 

Edward;       shrewd     withal;   and   an   apt   reader   of   men。    Therefore;      and 

because of the love he bore to Prior Stephen; he set Hilarius to attend his 

eldest   daughter;   who   seemed   to   belong   as   little   to   this   world   as   the   lad 

himself; and felt that in so doing he had achieved the best possible for his 

old friend; according to his asking。 

     Hilarius for his part served the Lady Eleanor as an acolyte tends the 

chapel of a saint; only she was further removed from him than a saint; by 

reason   of   her   pale   humanity。     He   soon   perceived;   as   he   watched   her   at 

banquet; tourney; or pageant; that she went to a revel as to the Sacrament; 

and sat at a mummers' show with eyes fixed on the Unseen。                       She moved 

through the gay vivid world of Court gallants and joyous maidens like a 



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shadow; and the rout grew graver at her coming。 

     It was much the same with her lover; Guy de Steyning … brother of that 

Hugh de Steyning men wot of as Brother Ambrosius … a gentle knight with 

mild blue eyes; a peaked red beard; and great fervour for heavenly things。 

The     pair   liked   one    another    well;   but   their   time   was    taken    up   with 

preparation for Paradise rather than with earthly business; and their speech 

lent   itself   more   readily   to   devout   phrases   than   to   lovers'   vows。    It   was 

small wonder; therefore; that another year saw them both by glad consent 

in   the   cloister;   he   at   Oxford;   and   Eleanor   in   the   Benedictine   House   of 

which her aunt was Prioress。 

     Hilarius had written of his saintly mistress to Prior Stephen just as he 

had   written   of   the   wondrous   beauty   of   St   Peter's   Abbey:   〃With   all   its 

straight; slender; upstanding pillars; methinks 'tis like the forest at home〃 

(forgetting that his more intimate knowledge of the forest partook of the 

nature of sin)。      〃The Lady Eleanor; my honoured mistress;〃 he wrote; 〃is 

a most saintly and devout maiden; full of heavenly lore; and caring nought 

for   the   things   of   this   world;〃   and   he   added;   〃'tis   beautiful   to   see   such 

devotion where for the most part are sinful and light…minded persons。〃 

     The   Prior   laid   the   script   aside   with   a   smile   and   a   sigh;   and   when 

Brother   Bernard   asked   news   of   the   lad;   answered   a   little   sadly;   〃Nay; 

Brother;   he   still   sleeps;〃   and   indeed   there   seemed   no   waking   him   to   a 

world of men … living; striving; sorely…tried men。 

     He dwelt in a land of his own making … a land of colour and light and 

shadow   in   which   much   that   he   saw   played   a   part;   only   the   gorgeous 

pageants turned to hosts of triumphant saints heralded by angels; while the 

knights at a tourney in their brave armour pictured St George; St Michael; 

or St Martin in his dreams。 

     It was a limner he longed to be; far away from the stir and stress; not a 

page attending a great lady to the Court functions。                 He yearned ever after 

the Scriptorium; with its busied monks and stores of colour and gold。                         It 

lay  but   a  stone's   throw   away  behind   the   jealous   Monastery  walls;   but   it 

was no part of Prior Stephen's plan that the lad should go straight from one 

cloister to another。 

     To   Hilarius   sitting   on   the   bench   in   the   sun;   came

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