"The priests of the Great Emperor," answered the old man, "administer baptism to the barbarians in token that they desire Christian light, and I can do no less for thee, who art in a devout mind."
Albrecht leaned forward in his chair and put out his hand half timidly to touch that of the other.
"I feel that I am ignorant of everything," he said. "Father, it is like suddenly coming into a strange land where I know not even the tongue that I should speak. I am afraid to go forward, lest I stumble into pitfalls I do not see."
Father Christopher laid his wrinkled hand kindly upon that of his penitent.
"But the way will become clear," he said, smiling. "Only follow the light that is given thee, and pray to God and his saints."
"But I know not how to pray."
"My son," the priest responded with a smile which comforted Albrecht more than words could have done, "our Great Emperor has said in his Capitularies: 'Let none suppose that prayer cannot be made to God save in three tongues, for God is adored in all tongues, and man is heard if he do but ask for the things that be right.' Be of good cheer, my son; God would not give a soul and not add enough knowledge for its salvation."
There was in the mien of Albrecht, as he knelt to receive the rite of baptism, the showing forth of great feeling. He had the air of one who comes into the fruit of a quest with joy, yet who regards that which he has won with something of doubt and secret awe; while withal it was evident that to his mind did this christening seem a thing which should serve in a sort as a talisman to defend him from this strange and awful guest that had come to dwell within him, but which even yet scarce seemed a part of himself. He was as one who knew not himself, but who was rather confused than enlightened by the new vision which had been imparted by the miracle that had been wrought.
"Father," he asked hesitatingly, "my wife, must I tell her?"
The priest considered a moment.