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Fairless, Michael, 1869-1901

"Gathering of Brother Hilarius"

Then all at once the Psalm
broke, and Brother Simon, who was leading, stayed suddenly.
Under a bush beside the track lay a man, naked save for filthy
rags; his hair and beard matted with moss and leaves; his eyes
sunk, his lips drawn apart in a ghastly grin. Hilarius made haste
to kneel beside him, and lo! sudden remembrance lighted the fast-
glazing eyes, but his own answered not.
"My son, my son," said the Prior, and his voice was very pitiful,
"thou art indeed in evil case; let me shrive thee ere it be too
late."
He motioned the others to stand back, and raising the heavy head
upon his shoulder, bent close to catch the whisper of the parched
lips.
At first no sound came, and then a hoarse word reached him.
"The Convent's hens!"
The Prior stared amazed; then once more the laboured voice -
"Hast forgot thy theft, and the dancer?"
Hilarius needed no further word; in a moment the years were wiped
away.
"Lad, lad, to find thee again, and in such sorry plight! But see,
stay not thy shriving, for the time is short, and the Lord ever
ready to pardon.


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