“Forthwith I suffered no man to stay me, and set off, the Plague at my heels; but ever out-stripping it, I was careful to preach its coming in every place, that men might turn and repent. Then as I tarried on the seaboard for a ship the Plague came; and because I had preached its coming, the people rose in wrath, and, falling upon me, roughly handled me. They beat me full sore in the market-place; then, piercing my eyeballs, set me adrift in a small boat.
“Two days and two nights I lay at the mercy of the sea, darkness and light alike to me, and with no thought of time; for the flames of hell burnt in my eyes, and a worse anguish in my heart because of my mother’s soul.”
“And then, and then?” tried Hilarius breathlessly, tears of pure pity in his eyes.
“Then the Lord cared for me even as He cared for the Prophet Jonas, and sent a ship that His message might not be hindered. The shipmen were kindly folk, but we were driven out of our course by a great wind, and at last came ashore in Lincolnshire. I have come south thus far by the aid of Christian men, but time presses; and now, lo! thou art here to guide me.”
“But, my Father,” said poor Hilarius, seeing yet another barrier in the way of his desires, “’tis a limner I would be; and I am from Westminster, not London, and then there is Prior Stephen’s letter—”
The friar held up his hand:
“Thou shalt be a limner, my son, the Lord hath revealed it to me. Last night the vision came again, and a voice cried: ‘Speed, for a son of Christ waits by the way to guide thy steps,’ and lo! thou art here, waiting by the way, as the voice said. And now, son, an thou wilt come thou shalt take thy letter to Wymondham—’tis a cell of this Abbey—for there is Brother Andreas from overseas who hath wondrous skill with the brush; he will teach thee, for thou shalt say to him that Brother Amadeus sent thee, who is now as Bartimeus, waiting for the light of the Lord; but first thou shalt set me in that village of Bungay, where my mother dwelleth.”
Hilarius listened, gazing awestruck at the withered eyes that vainly questioned his face. He had forgotten plague, death, flagellants, in this absorbing tale of the man of God, who was even as one of the blessed martyrs. Brother Andreas! A skilled limner! How should he, Hilarius, gainsay one with a vision from the Lord?
“I obey, my Father,” he cried joyously, taking the friar’s hand; and they two passed swiftly down the road, their faces to the east.