“What! Hugh pipes and never a word of thanks nor a jest? Damn you all for dull dogs!”
The blind friar rose and fixed his withered eyes on the man’s dreadful face.
“Piping Hugh of Mildenhall,” he said, and at his voice the man leapt to his feet and thrust his arm out as if for protection. “Piping Hugh of Mildenhall,” said the Friar again, “I have a message for thee from the Lord God. I cried thee damned in my own name once, when thou did’st take my little sister to shame and death; now I cry thee thrice damned in the name of the Lord, for the cup of thine iniquity is full and thy hands red with blood. Man hath branded thee; now God will set His mark on thee and all men shall see it. The Plague will come and come swiftly, but it shall not touch thee; many shall die in their sins; thou shalt live on with thine. A brute thou art, and with brutes thou shalt herd; thou shalt howl as a ravening wolf, and as such men shall hunt thee from their doors. Thou shalt seek death, even as Cain sought and found it not, because of the mark of the Lord. Thou art damned, thrice damned; thy speech shall go from thee, thy sight fail thee, thy mind be darkened; thou art given over to the Evil One, and he shall torment thee with remembrance.”
There was dead silence; then with a long shrill howl the man tore open the door, dashed from the house, and fled, a black blotch upon the whiteness of the night.
The guests huddled together aghast, and no man moved, until Hilarius, full of pride at his Friar’s powers, stepped forward to close the door. He was too late; it swung to with a loud crash like the sound of doom. The Friar sank back composedly on the bench, and the company began in silence to make preparation for the night. When all was ordered, Hilarius bade the Friar come, and he rose at the lad’s voice and touch. Then he crossed to where the others stood apart eyeing him fearfully.
He laid his hand on the miller’s breast and said in a clear, low voice: “Thou wilt die, brother.”
He laid his hand on the messenger’s breast: “Thou wilt die, brother.”
He laid his hand on the chapman’s breast: “Thou wilt die, brother.”
He laid his hand on mine host’s breast: “Thou wilt die, brother.”
Then he came to the other Friar who stood at a little distance, his face dark with anger and fear, and laid his hand on his breast: “Thou wilt live, my brother—and repent.”