(He walks quietly back and climbs the steps.)
Men,
Wing and wing this terrible morning, fly
Two avenging angels toward one mountain top.
One in his hand two bloody eyeballs bears;
The other, an old man's picture with a wound
Swollen and with Death's finger in it. Fixed
On two eyes are their four eyes. Toward one man
Four wings and two bright swords are on their way.
They light! They beckon me! I see it all!
From two wounds two red trails converge in one!
The hounds that have their noses on the track
Of the brother, had their tongues in Jardin's blood!
The big white talbot is Canzler!
(There is a moment's silence so intense that the wind is heard whistling among the white crosses in the churchyard. Then a terrible shout goes up.)
Shouts—Down with him!
To Hell with the hounds!
Lead us! Lead us!
(Jacques strikes with his sword and the lines move swiftly to the left, the direction of the abbey.)
Father Benedict— (To himself.)
God's purposes begin where man's prayers end.
Jacques Sar— (On fire.)
Right about! Face the heathen and face God!
(The lines wheel and face right, the direction in which the storm is moving.)
Father Benedict— (Transported.)
This is most wonderful. Men, Hell hath here
Packed all her seeds in one infernal bloom.
And who knew till this beam fell where to turn?
Henceforth let no man say he knows the way
That God will move on the morrow, for in a flash
The hem of his great garment passeth by.