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There is a wondrous succession of high reliefs figuring the dead in groups of three and five; statues in which the dead live deified, erect; seats contrived in niches in order that wayfarers may rest and bless the hospitality of the dead; laudatory epitaphs celebrating the dead, both the known and the unknown, the children of Sextius Pompeius Justus, the departed Marcus Servilius Quartus, Hilarius Fuscus, Rabirius Hermodorus; without counting the sepulchres venturously ascribed to Seneca and the Horatii and Curiatii.
Hilarius rightly guessed the tall, careworn man of distinguished presence to be no other than Sir John himself, and he liked him well; but his eyes wandered carelessly over the rest of the company until they were caught and held by a woman's face.
'tis a foul fault, the abusing by evil-killing, evil-dressing, evil-appetite, or otherwise, the good creatures indulged to us for our use. Wherefore, secure us the service of this youth, Brother Hilarius, in the way that may best suit him.
He passed from the cloister into the garth where bloomed the lilies that Hilarius had loved so well. He looked at the row of nameless graves with the great Rood for their common memorial; last but one lay the resting-place of Brother Richard, and the blind monk's dying speech had been of the lad whose face he had strained his eyes to see.
The woman stayed when she came to the sleeping lad, and stooped to arouse him, but he slept on. She called him, and her voice was as the calling of the summer sea on a shelving beach; but Hilarius gave no heed.
He had called his children to him in the late night-watches, and having kissed and blessed them, he bade them turn him to the east, for his time had come; and they obeyed in sore grief and perplexed. Prior Hilarius lay and watched for the light, and as dawn parted night's veil with the long foregleam of the coming day, he shut his eyes like a tired child and went home.
At last, exhausted and panting, he stayed to rest, and saw, coming towards him, a blind friar. Hilarius had turned into a by-way in the hurry of his terror, and they two were alone. The friar was a small, mean-looking man, feeling his way by the aid of hand and staff; his face upturned, craving the light.
Hilarius and Martin buried the witch at the back of her wretched den; and the Friar, the priest lost in the son, prayed long by the else unhallowed grave, and Martin prayed beside him. Hilarius stood apart, his lips set straight, and said no prayer; for what availed it to pray for an unassoilzied witch who had met her due, damned alike by God and man? Martin came up to him.
When Hilarius had made an end, the Prior took him in his arms and blessed him for his dear son; praising God that the lad had come back a child at heart, but hungering, loving, open-eyed. Next morning, being shriven, Hilarius ate the bread and drank the wine of the "wayfaring man," his heart merry for the joy of his home-coming. When the Lady-Mass was ended he knelt on in her Chapel.
Ah misery, dear misery, sweet misery!" This mournful song was no sooner ended than supper was served; and the company proved themselves good trenchermen. Hilarius caught sight of the seditious friar making short work of the Convent's victuals, and marvelled to see him in a place to which he had given so evil a name. Martin was unfeignedly glad to see the lad, and listened intently to his tale.
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