Meanwhile, my gentle guide talked resignedly of the ruin of the building, of the decay of the order. There was a note of deep sadness in his voice, as he said:—
"Justice and truth are like the sun; they traverse the earth; they set."
"They rise again on the other side," I added. A smile lit up the peaceful, flamand face.
"Yes, they rise again on the other side."
We were at the gate.
"How I wish my wife had been here," I said, thoughtlessly. "She would so have enjoyed talking with you."
The little monk smiled, twinkled almost. Here was an artless stranger, indeed!
"Monsieur," shaking his head, "We do not allow ladies to pass the gate." It was my turn to smile, and to apologise. My friend guide understood. He took my hand.
"Probably," he murmured, "we meet no more in this world. Then, adieu."