y as he
unfolded the silk wrappings, and his hands trembled as he loosened the
golden clasps, and hurriedly slipped in his piece of parchment. He put
it in at the very back of the book, after Brother Stephen's last page.
Then carefully refastening the clasps, and again folding it up in its
silken cover, he replaced the book on the shelf.

Poor Gabriel did not know whether he had done very wrong or not in
taking this liberty with the painted book. He only knew that he could
not bear to have it go away without his little prayer between its
covers; and he thought that now God would surely notice it, as he had
written it as nicely as he knew how, and had placed it next to Brother
Stephen's.

By this time it was growing dark, and so Gabriel left the Abbey and took
his way home. When he reached their forlorn little cottage, he found
only a scanty supper awaiting him, and very early he went to bed; for
they had but little fire and were too poor to afford even a single
candle to burn through the long winter evening.

[Illustration: "_Taking down the book . . . he unwrapped and unclasped
it_"]

As Gabriel lay shivering in his cold little bed, he wondered how long
it would be before God would grant his prayer for help. And then he
wondered if God would be displeased because he had dared to put it in
the beautiful book without asking permission from Brother Stephen or the
Abbot. And the more he thought of the possibility of this, and of all
their other troubles, the more miserable he felt, till at last he sobbed
himself to sleep.

The poor little boy did not know that after he himself had been sleeping
for several hours, Brother Stephen, who had not slept, came out of his
cell in the Abbey, and, carrying in his hand a small lamp, passed softly
down the corridor and into the chapter-house. For Brother Stephen,
like many another true artist who has worked long and lovingly upon some
exquisite thing, found it very hard to part with that which he had made.
He did not expect ever again to see the beautiful book after it left the
Abbey, and so he felt that he must take a farewell look at it all by
himself.

As he entered the chapter-house, he set the lamp on the table; and then
taking down the book and placing it also on the table, he unwrapped and
unclasped it, and seating himself in front of it, looked long and
earnestly at each page as he slowly turned them over, one by one.

When at last he came to the end, and found a loos