This miracle began to open the eyes of the villagers; and they gave permission to Galonnek to take up his abode in a forest which stretched in those days from Plouzevel to the sea-shore. There the holy disciple of St. Patrick built himself a hut of turf and boughs.
One day whilst praying in this oratory, he heard the hoofs of a runaway horse; and leaving his devotions to see what was the matter, he saw a knight thrown from his horse amidst the thicket.
Galonnek ran to his assistance; and having with much difficulty carried him to his hermitage, he began to bathe his wounds, to dress them with leaves for want of ointment, and to bind them up with strips torn from his own gown of serge.
Now it chanced that this knight was the Count of Cornouaille himself; and he was found presently by the attendants, whom he had outstripped, peacefully sleeping on the saint’s bed of fern. But behold, when he awakened, that saint’s prayers had stood instead of remedies, and all his wounds were healed.
And whilst all stood astonished at this miracle, St. Galonnek said gently,
“Do not be so much surprised; for if by faith mountains may be moved, why should not charity heal death itself?”
The count, filled with wonder and delight, declared that the whole forest should become the property of the man who had done so much for him; and not that only, but that he should have as much good meadow-land as could be enclosed within the strips he had torn from his gown to bind the wounds, each strip being reduced to single threads. Thus Galonnek became the owner of a whole parish; and a proverb arose, which is still current in those parts, That it is with the length of a benefit received one must measure the field of gratitude.
Yet Galonnek was none the richer, notwithstanding the noble liberality of the count. All the income of his estate was given to the poor, whilst he still lived on in his leafy hermitage. But as many young men were attracted from the neighbourhood by his reputation for holiness and learning, he built many other cells beside his own; and thus from his school in that solitary glade the light of the Gospel went forth in time through all the length and breadth of the country.
It was amidst the perfume of wild-flowers, beside the murmuring brook, that Galonnek taught his pupils. He would teach them to understand somewhat of the providence of God by making them observe the tender care with which the little birds prepare a downy nest for offspring yet unborn. He would point out to their attention how the earth yields moisture to the roots of trees, how the trees become a dwelling-place for thrushes and for finches, and how these again make musical the forest with their cheerful strains, to illustrate the advantage and necessity of mutual benevolence and brotherly love. And when need was to stimulate their efforts or their perseverance, he would lead them to behold the ant, unwearied in her toil, or the constant woodpecker whose tiny bill achieves the scooping of an oak.
But this teaching did not confine him in one place; and wherever he went his presence was as that of a star in the midst of darkness.