Early and late the Prior toiled with the Brethren and his band of
workers, nursing the sick, burying the dead, and destroying the
pestilent dwellings.
Brother Leo was the first to whom the call came: he answered it
like a soldier at his post.
As the Prior rose from the pallet of his dead son, one bade him
come quickly, for a dying man had need of him. It was Dickon.
The Prior, bearing with him the Body of the Lord, made haste to the
hovel where he lay, and shrived him though he scarce could hear his
muttered words; but lo! when he would place the Host he could not,
for a gold piece lay on the man's tongue. The Prior drew back
dismayed, and behold, the Lord's hand struck swiftly, and Dickon
died with a barren shriving--on whom may Christ take pity!
Next day great grey clouds curtained the arid, staring sky; and at
even came the rain. All through the night it fell; and one of the
novices, who lay a-dying in the Prioir's arms, heard it as he
passed, and fell back, joy on his lips and a radiant smile on his
young face.
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