Part 141 (1/2)
She whispered, ”'Tis a far holier hermit than the last; he used to come in the town now and then; but this one ne'er shows his face to mortal man.”
”And that is holiness?”
”Ay, sure.”
”Then what a saint a dormouse must be!”
”Out, fie, mistress. Would ye even a beast to a man?”
”Come Reicht,” said Margaret, ”my poor father taught me overmuch. So I will e'en sit here; and look at the manse once more. Go thou forward and question thy solitary; and tell me whether ye get nought or nonsense out of him; for 'twill be one.”
As Reicht drew near the cave, a number of birds flew out of it. She gave a little scream, and pointed to the cave to show Margaret they had come thence. On this Margaret felt sure there was no human being in the cave, and gave the matter no further attention. She fell into a deep reverie while looking at the little manse.
She was startled from it by Reicht's hand upon her shoulder, and a faint voice, saying, ”Let us go home.”
”You got no answer at all, Reicht,” said Margaret, calmly.
”No, Margaret,” said Reicht, despondently. And they returned home.
Perhaps after all Margaret had nourished some faint secret hope in her heart, though her reason had rejected it; for she certainly went home more dejectedly.
Just as they entered Rotterdam, Reicht said, ”Stay! Oh, Margaret, I am ill at deceit; but 'tis death to utter ill news to thee; I love thee so dear.”
”Speak out, sweetheart,” said Margaret. ”I have gone through so much, I am almost past feeling any fresh trouble.”
”Margaret, the hermit did speak to me.”
”What, a hermit there? among all those birds.”
”Ay; and doth not that show him a holy man?”
”I' G.o.d's name, what said he to thee, Reicht?”
”Alas! Margaret, I told him thy story, and I prayed him for our Lady's sake, tell me where thy Gerard is. And I waited long for an answer, and presently a voice came like a trumpet. 'Pray for the soul of Gerard, the son of Eli!'”
”Ah!”
”Oh, woe is me that I have this to tell thee, sweet Margaret! bethink thee thou hast thy boy to live for yet.”
”Let me get home,” said Margaret, faintly.
Pa.s.sing down the Brede Kirk Straet they saw Joan at the door.
Reicht said to her, ”Eh, woman, she has been to your hermit, and heard no good news.”
”Come in,” said Joan, eager for a gossip.
Margaret would not go in. But she sat down disconsolate on the lowest step but one of the little external staircase that led into Joan's house; and let the other two gossip their fill at the top of it.
”Oh,” said Joan, ”what yon hermit says is sure to be sooth. He is that holy, I am told, that the very birds consort with him.”