d one
morning, going upstairs from breakfast side by side with the Superior, he
said:

"Father, is the lay brother with the melancholy eyes and the pale face
the one whom I knew at the hospital?"

"Yes," said the Father; "but he is under the rule of silence."

"Ah! Does he know what has become of his sister?"

"No."

It was the morning hour of recreation, and the Father drew John into the
courtyard and talked of Brother Paul.

He was much tormented by thoughts of the world without, and being a young
man of a weak nervous system and a consumptive tendency, such struggles
with the evil one were hurtful to him. Therefore, though it was the rule
that a lay brother should not be consecrated until after long years of
service, it had been decided that he should take the vows immediately, in
order that Satan might yield up his hold of him and the world might drag
at him no more.

"Is that your experience?" said John; "when a religious has taken the
vows, are his thoughts of the world all conquered?"

"He is like the sailor making ready for his voyage. As long as he lies in
harbour his thoughts are of the home he has left behind him; but when he
has once crossed the bar and is out on the ocean he thinks only of the
haven where he would be."

"But are there no backward glances, Father? The sailor may write to the
friends he has parted from--surely the religious may pray for them."

"As brothers and sisters of the spirit, yes, always and at all times; as
brothers and sisters of the flesh, no, never, save in hours of especial
need. He is the spouse of Christ, my son, and all Christ's children are
his kindred equally."

As a last word the Father begged of John to abstain from reference to
anything that had happened at the hospital, lest Brother Paul might hear
of it and manifold evils be the result.

The warning seemed needless. From that day forward John tried to avoid
Brother Paul. In church and in the refectory he kept his eyes away from
him. He could not see that worn face, with its hungry look, and not think
of a captured eagle with a broken wing. It was with a shock that he
discovered that their cells were side by side. If they came near to each
other in the corridors he experienced a kind of terror, and was thankful
for the rule of silence which forbade them to speak. Under the
smouldering ashes there might be coals of fire which only wanted a puff
to fan them into flame.

They came face to face at last. It w