se of cobblers, charcoal-burners or
goatherds came and taught strange doctrines at midnight in the poor
hovels. What they taught she could not clearly tell, save that they
believed each soul could commune directly with its Maker, without need
of priest or intercessor; also she had heard from some of their
disciples that there are two Gods, one of good and one of evil, and
that the God of evil has his throne in the Pope's palace in Rome. But
in spite of these dark teachings they were a mild and merciful folk,
full of loving-kindness toward poor persons and wayfarers; so that her
heart grieved for them when one day a Dominican monk appeared in the
village with a company of soldiers, and some of the weavers were seized
and dragged to prison, while others, with their wives and babes, fled
to the winter woods. She fled with them, fearing to be charged with
their heresy, and for months they lay hid in desert places, the older
and weaker, who fell sick from want and exposure, being devoutly
ministered to by their brethren, and dying in the sure faith of heaven.

All this she related modestly and simply, not as one who joys in a
godless life, but as having been drawn into it through misadventure;
and she told the Hermit that when she heard the sound of church bells
she never failed to say an Ave or a Pater; and that often, as she lay
in the midnight darkness of the forest, she had hushed her fears by
reciting the versicles from the Evening Hour:

Keep us, O Lord, as the apple of the eye,
Protect us under the shadow of Thy wings.

The wound in her foot healed slowly; and the Hermit, while it was
mending, repaired daily to her cave, reasoning with her in love and
charity, and exhorting her to return to the cloister. But this she
persistently refused to do; and fearing lest she attempt to fly before
her foot was healed, and so expose herself to hunger and ill-usage, he
promised not to betray her presence, or to take any measures toward
restoring her to her Order.

He began indeed to doubt whether she had any calling to the life
enclosed; yet her gentleness and innocency of mind made him feel that
she might be won back to holy living, if only her freedom were assured.
So after many inward struggles (since his promise forbade his taking
counsel with any concerning her) he resolved to let her remain in the
cave till some light should come to him. And one day, visiting her
about the hour of Nones (for it became his pious habit