this there is needed one thing, and that a firm and quiet
simplicity. He would do nothing till his mind was quiet. The friend of
God must be as a little child, as the gospel tells us, and when the soul
is quiet there is no difficulty in knowing what must be done. The first
business then of a solitary's life is to preserve this quiet against the
fiend's assaults and disquiet. And, I think, of all that I have ever
known, Master Richard's soul was the most quiet, and most like to the
soul of a little child.

As I walked now beside the stream I knew very well that it was for this
that he was striving in contemplation: the sweat that ran down his
cheeks was the sign of the fiend's assault, and I knew that I had done
well to come. I had followed, as Master Richard himself had taught me,
that loud interior voice.

So I strove to become quiet myself; I signed myself with the cross, and
cried softly upon saint Giles to pray for me to God's Majesty that I
might know what to say and do. Then I placed myself, as I had learned,
at the divine feet; I looked at the yellow flowers and the clear running
water and the open sky, and presently I was aware that all was silence
within and without me. So I waited and walked softly to and fro, until
Master Richard came to the door of his hut.

He stood there for a full minute, I suppose, with the sun on his face
and his brown frock and broad white sleeves, before he saw me; for I was
in the shadow of the hazels. Then he waved his hands a little, and came
slowly and very upright down the path in the middle, and as I went
towards him I saw the beasts had gone. They were content, I suppose, now
that their master was come out.

He came down the path, very pale and grave, and knelt as usual for my
blessing, which I gave; then he kissed my skirt as he always did with a
priest, and stood up.

Now I will try to tell you all that he said as he said it.

* * * * *

We went together without speaking, to the hut, and he brought out the
stool into the sunlight and made me sit upon it, and sat himself upon
the ground beneath me, with his hands clasped about his knee, and his
bare feet drawn beneath him. I could see no more of him but his brown
hair and his throat, and his strong shoulders bent forward. Then he
began to speak. His voice was always grave and steady.

"I am glad you are come, Sir John; I have something to ask you. I do not
know what to do. I will tell y