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In the craziest legends of the chronicles there was no such scene as this. For one whirling moment Padraig believed everything he had heard or read of werewolf or of loup-garou. In the name of Saint Kevin, what could this be but the very lair of the beast? Yet Brother Basil showed neither fear nor aversion. Padraig knelt to kiss the outheld hand. "Father," he faltered, "they sent me to find you."
"Is this necessary to the making of gold?" asked Gregory. "Surely," Padraig assured him. "The pupil cannot do the work of the master, the master must not be compelled to labor as the pupil. It is written in our books Feliciter is sapit, qui periculo alieno sapit Those are fortunate who learn at the risk of another, and again, He is wise who profits by others' folly."
"I mean," said Padraig hesitating, "what is it like when it is in the earth? Is it a different color like copper?" Copper, he knew, was often green when it was found. "Gold is always gold," said Brother Basil, coming out of his fit of dreamy abstraction. "I have seen it washed out of rivers.
"'Mouth' is the English for harbor," suggested Wilfrid. "But all the country people would call it 'Bull-and-Mouth." Padraig began sketching with a bit of charcoal on the broken wall. "Make it that and I'll paint the sign for ye. 'Bull-and-Mouth' every hungry man will see the meaning o' that." With a dozen strokes he sketched a huge mouth about to swallow a bull.
Padraig wondered whether this could have any connection with the unlucky picture. Next day there was deeper concern in the scriptorium. Brother Basil was not present at all. The work went on under Brother Mark, the librarian, but the heart of it was not the same.
"Some of them will look foolish when they hear that," Padraig observed with satisfaction. "I grieve for your lameness, Father, and yet I could leap and sing all the way home for joy that it is not as we feared." "There would be naught to laugh at if any other man had found us out, I warrant you," Ruric said gruffly.
If any one but Brother Basil had asked him to stay his hand, he would not have given two thoughts to it, but it was Brother Basil, and the matter must be considered. "These men," he said grimly, "are outlaws, red-handed robbers. They have broken the law of God and man. They deserve justice, not mercy." "If they can be caught," ventured Padraig. "You think they cannot be taken?"
This clerk, Simon Gastard, knows the country and the language. If his story is true it may be worth looking into. I would not trust him alone with the value of a Scotch penny. But if you were to go with him as my proxy, you would have a chance of talking with this man Giovanni has in mind." Padraig sniffed. "And Simon would sell ye to the devil if he got his price.
At times he had gone afield for a day or even longer, searching for balsams, pigments, minerals and other things needed for the work, but he had nearly always taken Padraig with him. This time he had gone alone. Padraig was as curious as a squirrel and as determined as a mink, and he wished very much to know what this meant.
"He thinks the Cluricaune comes there mornings to catch frogs, and if he can catch the Cluricaune he can make him tell where all his gold is." Brother Basil bit his lips to keep back a smile. "Now I wonder," he said gravely, "who could have told him such a tale?" "I did," said Padraig. "That is, I said old Granny Dooley told it to me when I was small.
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