ivalry than that of the tourney or the battlefield.
Thou wast the first to understand, and to make me understand, that the
highest chivalry was that of our Lord Himself, when He laid down His
life for sinners, and prayed for His enemies who pierced and nailed Him
to the Cross. His words are ever words of mercy. Were He here with us
today upon earth, where should we find Him now? Surely where the peril
was greatest, where the need sorest, where the darkness, the terror, the
distress blackest. And where He would be, were He with us here, is the
place where those who would follow Him most faithfully should be found.
Not all perchance; there be claims of kindred, ties of love that no man
may lightly disregard: But none such ties bind me. I have but my brother
to love, and he is out in the world -- he needs me not. I am free to go
where the voice within calls me; and I go forth to-morrow."

"And whither goest thou?" asked John, in a low, awestruck tone.

"I go to Father Paul," answered Raymond, without hesitation, as one who
has thought the matter well out beforehand. "Wherever the need is
sorest, the peril greatest, there will Father Paul be found. And the
Brotherhood stands in the heart of the smitten regions; wherefore at his
very doors the sick will be lying, untended perchance and unassoiled,
save in those places whither he can go. I fare forth at sunrising
tomorrow, to seek and to find him. He will give me work, he will let me
toil beside him; better than that I ask not."

John had risen from his seat. An answering light had sprung to his eyes
as he had heard and watched Raymond. Now he laid his hand upon his
cousin's arm, and said quietly:

"Go, then, in the name of the Lord; I too go with thee."

Raymond turned his head and looked full at his cousin, marking the thin,
sunken lines of the face, the stooping pose of the shoulders, the hectic
flush that came and went upon the hollow cheek; and seeing this and
knowing what it betokened, he linked his arm within John's and commenced
walking up and down the room with him, as though inaction were
impossible at such a moment. And as he walked he talked.

"Good John," he said, "I would fain have thee with me; but I well know
thou hast no strength for the task thou hast set thyself. Even the long
day's ride would weary thy frame so sorely that thou wouldst fall an
easy victim to the sickness ere thou hadst done aught to help another.
Thou hast thy father, thy mother, and