"It is not for me to say who will and who will not be saved," he said, slowly and thoughtfully; "and we are expressly told that there will be punishment for those who fall away from the faith. Yet we are not told that error will be punished with everlasting death. And there be places in Holy Scripture which tell us that 'whoso believeth and is baptized shall be saved;' and heretics believe that Christ died for the world. It says, again, that those who love the Lord are born of God; and shall they perish everlastingly? My son, the mercies of God are very great; from end to end of this book we are told that. Knowing so much, need we ask more? With Him rests the judgment of all mankind. He alone can read the heart. Let that thought be enough for us. Whether the sin of heresy is as vile in His eyes as in those of man, He alone knows; we do not. Let us strive for our own part to keep the unity of the faith in the bond of peace, and leave all else to Him."
As he spoke, Brother Emmanuel gently closed the book, as though to close the discussion likewise; and Edred, looking up and round about him, drawing a long breath meantime, suddenly gave a start, which attracted the attention of his preceptor.
A short distance away--how he had got there neither of the pair knew; they had been too much engrossed in their talk to take much heed of external impressions--was an elderly monk, clad in the same gown and hood as Brother Emmanuel, betokening that he too was of the Benedictine order; and his face, shrouded in its cowl, was turned towards the pair with a very peculiar expression upon it. A sinister smile was in the narrow beady eyes; the features, which were coarse and somewhat bloated from luxurious living, were set in a look of ill-concealed malice; and the salutation addressed to the pair when he saw himself perceived had in it something of an incongruous sound.
"Pax vobiscum!" said the newcomer, lifting his hand as if to impart a blessing.
Edred instinctively bent the knee, but Brother Emmanuel's face did not move a muscle.
"Hast thou come with a message for me from the reverend father?" he asked quietly.
"Nay, not for thee. My message was to Sir Oliver; but I will report to the father how excellently I found thee employed--training thy pupils in all godliness and honesty, and in that hatred of heresy which it behoves all true sons of the Church to cherish."
There was a spiteful gleam in the man's eyes as he spoke these words that made Edred shiver; but the calm regard of the younger monk did not waver.
"I have taught him nothing but what I have heard our good Dean of St. Paul's speak before princes and prelates in the pulpit," answered Brother Emmanuel, not pretending to misunderstand the innuendo conveyed. "Methinks it would profit many of our brothers in country places to hear what is being thought and taught in Oxford and London, in all the great centres of the country. The reverend father knows well what I hold and what I teach."
So clear and steadfast was the light in the young monk's eyes, that the regard of the other fell before it. He made a gesture, as if to repudiate the defence as a thing quite superfluous.