Now Prior Hilarius desired greatly to set a picture of Our Lady above the Altar in her Chapel. Long did he pray with ever-increasing fervour and much fasting that this boon might be vouchsafed him for her glory and the Convent’s greater good. And one day—’twas her Nativity—he set his hand to the work, for it seemed to him that she would have it so; and he was greatly humbled that such heavenly kindness should attend so vile a sinner. Day by day he set apart some hours for this service; and he limned a face so fair and radiant, with woman’s love and light of heaven, that it was whispered in the cloister walks that the Prior had surely been blessed by a vision, else had he never pictured the Maid-Mother in so wondrous a fashion: and of a truth a man might well give credence to such a story, for the joy that shone in the Prior’s eyes and might not be hid.
Many other tales did the Brethren tell of Hilarius, but softly, for he would hear no word of his own deeds or the favours vouchsafed him.
When he walked in the garth the pigeons circled round him crooning their peace-note; and it was told that the kine in the meadows ceased browsing when he passed, and needs must company with him a little way.
Once it befell that a lay-brother was afflicted with heavy sickness by reason of the sun’s great heat; and Satan strove with him for his undoing, so that the poor soul foamed at the mouth and roared out blasphemy; yea, verily, and must be held with cords also, lest he do himself or his fellows some grievous hurt. But when the Prior laid his hand between the man’s troubled eyes sweet sleep came upon him, and his madness forsook him.
The poor also crowded to the Monastery gate and were fed, ay, even if the Brethren went hungry; and if any man in all the villages round had aught against his neighbour he would come to the Prior for a just hearing.
Nevertheless, despite these things the Convent’s peace began to be troubled. Men sought the Monastery for its famous name, caring but little for religion; there were many young novices within its walls, and the strong hand of Prior Stephen was lacking. Hilarius was of gentler build; he would speak ever in love, thinking no evil, whereas it is not given to all men to understand that tongue. So it came to pass that the younger Brethren waxed fat and kicked, and the elder Brethren murmured.
CHAPTER V
“GABRIEL, MAKE THIS MAN TO UNDERSTAND THE VISION.”—DAN. viii. 16.
One day the Novice-master, Brother Adam, a most worthy man, came in sore trouble to the Prior and would resign his office.
“Surely never before did such an ill-conditioned brood find shelter in a monastery!” he cried. “They grow fat, idle, insolent, quarrelsome-never at peace among themselves; never a Pater or an Ave too many, or a task fulfilled, save for fear of stripes. I would that the time of blood-letting were here that their high stomachs might be brought low. I am no longer young, my Father, and this burden tries me sorely. Prithee, let it be shifted to another and a stronger back.”
The Prior listened with many an inward mea culpa. “’Tis a sad hearing, Brother Adam, but young blood is hard of mastering; maybe this ill mood will pass. The lad Robert is surely ever gentle and decorous? He hath a most beauteous voice.”