Page:Weird Tales Volume 13 Number 06 (1929-06).djvu/122

must I boil herbs for you. And whether or not they will save your life, which this foolish exposure has endangered, rests with God!"

"Tut, tut, man!" laughed the secular person, freeing himself. "Have no fear. I'm not sick, and never was. God never meant me to be. I was only exhausted the other night from the long ride, but you mistook the signs and kept me abed ever since instead of chasing me out of the monastery the very next day."

Worn out, the abbot sank to his seat.

His brother rubbed his palms energetically and searched the room rapidly. At last he questioned: "Where is my armor?"

"Wherefore——?"

"Up, brother, and get me my suit of armor. I must away tonight!"

"Away tonight?"

"To be sure. What is there wrong about that?"

"But the storm——?"

"Is a godsend! Just what I need. The watch will be lax tonight, and I can better enter the city unnoticed."

"You're not returning to that ungrateful city?"

"Ay, I am."

"I'll not fetch your suit!"

"Then I'll go as I am."

"O my brother! Do not leave! Too long have we been separated. Stay here in peace with me and watch the untroubled years go by. Remember the days of our youth? Remember how I always loved your company? Remember our dear mother (God have her in His keeping!)? Remember what she always said to you whenever we two went to some distant town or fair: 'Never leave your brother's side'? Why do you wish to leave me now?"

The warrior was touched. "I can not help it, brother mine," he explained in a thick voice. "I can not remain with you. You are very kind, indeed, and gladly, gladly would I stay, did it depend on me. But it doesn't. My duty calls. I must return. I must free my people!"

Quickly the churchman retorted, almost harshly, "But your own people drove you out!"

The warrior bit his lips. Outside the storm spent its rage unhindered. The casement rattled like the bones of the dead. At length he broke the silence:

"True. Just the same, I must return to them."

"Wherefore?"

"They need me."

With this explanation, he resumed his search for his suit of armor. Hither and thither he sped; scoured every corner; upset everything; finally he spied it in a corner, beneath two sacks of dried herbs and a monk's frock. He dragged it forth triumphantly, then proceeded with the business of donning it.

The ecclesiastic watched his brother's operations with unbelieving eyes. "Listen," he said slowly, weighing each word, "if you return they will end by betraying you to the enemy." Quickly his admonition changed to a plea: "Stay with me, O my brother! You have done enough for them, jeopardized enough for them. Your efforts were not appreciated. You can't deny that. They are unworthy, your people. Remain and serve God with me!"

Moodily the warrior meditated. Sensing that he had struck the right cord, the abbot eagerly followed up his advantage.

"Brother, listen! We have a manuscript in our possession here. It is very old. I don't know how long it's been with us. It isn't worth my while to go through the library in order to get it for you because it's written in old Latin and the handwriting is, I must confess, more artistic than legible."

The soldier's eyelids flickered, showing that he was following his brother, although still abstractedly.