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Updated: May 20, 2025
Ethbert, mildly and respectfully. He who is of Christ, walks as Christ himself walked. Christ went from place to place doing good; and it is Christ himself, who says to his Church: "Love one another. He who loveth is of God." Theobald was silent. These words: "He who loveth is of God," had touched his heart, and he was affected and humbled.
The latter had fallen asleep, after Ethbert left him; and when he awoke, all was tranquil around him. The warriors, after having taken some nourishment, had returned to their camp, and Arnold was sleeping beneath the eyes of his happy father, and of Erard, who repeated incessantly, in a low voice, "O, how good the Lord is! He has preserved my father!" "This is a singular house," thought Theobald.
Ethbert was also silent, secretly asking of God to enlighten and soften the heart of the chevalier, for which Matthew and himself had already prayed more than once. At last Theobald said, slowly, "It is not, then, like Christians, for men to hate and war with each other? And yet these impious men deserve to be burned; and are not those who imitate them the enemies of God and of the Church?"
"Jesus! did you say, is the Prince of peace! But is he not with us who support his cause, and who yet fight valiantly?" Ethbert. The cause of Jesus is the gospel of his grace. His cause is not supported by the sword and lance; but is defended by truth and love. Theobald, surprised. Your words, Ethbert, are sermons. Where do they come from? Ethbert.
"It was I, my lord, who held the torch which illuminated the dark forest, and it was between the trunks of the oaks and pines that I saw first a horse extended on the motionless body of a warrior." Arnold. And this warrior Ethbert. Was Theobald! Yes, my lord, it was he who had just, as he thought, struck your death-blow. Arnold. And who directed your steps thither, at night? Ethbert. God, himself.
At these words Ethbert left the room, saying, "Amen." "It was I it was I who struck you!" exclaimed Theobald, bathing with tears the hands with which he had covered his face. "Arnold, it was my sword that made this still bleeding wound! Pardon! pardon! in the name of God alone! Arnold, forgive! O forgive one who would have been your murderer!"
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