“Ah!” cried the young monks, “behold a saint!”
Under the hair cloth they found a long thick tress of auburn hair.
They started, and were horrified; and a babel of voices arose, some condemning, some excusing.
In the midst of which Jerome came in, and hearing the dispute, turned to an ardent young monk called Basil, who was crying scandal the loudest, “Basil,” said he, “is she alive or dead that owned this hair?”
“How may I know, father?”
“Then for aught you know it may be the relic of a saint?”
“Certes it may be,” said Basil sceptically.
“You have then broken our rule, which saith, 'Put ill construction on no act done by a brother which can be construed innocently.' Who are you to judge such a man as this was? go to your cell, and stir not out for a week by way of penance.”
He then carried off the lock of hair.
And when the coffin was to be closed, he cleared the cell: and put the tress upon the dead man's bosom. “There, Clement,” said he to the dead face. And set himself a penance for doing it; and nailed the coffin up himself.