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"An what is the matter with my poor body, may it please you, kind sir?" she asked demurely, and stood with downcast eyes, like a scolded child. "It is wrong to deck the body," began Hilarius, softening at her attitude, "because, because " Again the merry laugh rang out. How old art thou?" She held up her small finger admonishingly. "Seventeen," replied Hilarius, surprised into reply.
Hilarius went back to the courtyard, his soul full of trouble. He leant against the fountain, playing with the cool water which fell with monotonous rhythm into the shallow timeworn basin. The cloudless sky smiled back at him from the broken mirror into which he gazed, and the glory of its untroubled blue thrilled him strangely.
It was Hilarius. He drew himself up to the full of his slender height, and bowed. Panting a little, the woman came towards him across the many-hued marble floors; and, as she passed, a vase of great white lilies caught in her draperies of cramoisie and fell. She gave no heed, but swept on, and faced him in the sunny silence.
According to the duty of his office, the governor of the province despatched a faithful narrative of the whole transaction: while the trembling citizens intrusted the confession of their crime, and the assurances of their repentance, to the zeal of Flavian, their bishop, and to the eloquence of the senator Hilarius, the friend, and most probably the disciple, of Libanius; whose genius, on this melancholy occasion, was not useless to his country.
The dancer, true to her promise, scanned the road as the waggon drew near the place of Hilarius' first and last theft: he was standing by the wayside alone. The waggon passed on carrying him with it; and the dancer looked but once on his face and asked no question.
The next steps of the same kind were rhetorical. They were made by men who declaimed much and reasoned ill, but who imposed on the imaginations of others by the heat of their own, by their hyperboles, their exaggerations, the acrimony of their style, and their violent invectives. Such were the Chrysostoms, the Jeromes, an Hilarius, a Cyril, and most of the Fathers.
He lay on a truss of sweet- smelling hay, and dreamt of Wymondham and Brother Andreas; of gold, vermilion and blue; of wondrous pictures, and a great name: and the scent of the pine forest at home swept across his quiet sleep. On the morrow came the parting of the ways, for Hilarius was all aglow for Wymondham, and Martin had charged himself with the Friar at least as far as Norwich.
"Art thou a monk?" "Nay, a novice only." "Hast thou ever loved?" Hilarius threw up his hands in shocked indignation, but she went on unconcerned "'Twas a foolish question; the answer's writ large for any maid to read. But tell me, why art thou angry at the thought of love?" Hilarius felt the ground slipping from under his feet.
But it came to pass that even the people marvelled at his joyful endurance; and indeed 'twas more like a scourging of one of the blessed martyrs than of a poor sinful robber. After this the Brothers of the Poor took him, for such was his desire; and so I bade him farewell, and craved his blessing." "The Lord fulfil all his mind!" said the Prior with clasped hands. "Amen," said Hilarius.
"Seize the knave!" cried the girl sharply. Hilarius stared at her and she at him. It was his dancer, and she knew him, ay, despite the change of dress and scene, she knew him. "What! The worthy novice turned worldling and thief! Nay, 'tis a rare jest. What of thy fine sermons now, good preacher?"
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