cred orders not to hold him back from an
opportunity to make his living, should affairs be pushed further in the
direction of dissolution.

He was looking forward with an extraordinary zeal to the crown of
priesthood. It seemed to him a possession that would compensate for all
other losses. If he could but make the Body of the Lord, lift It before
the Throne, and hold It in his hands, all else was trifling.

There were waves of ecstatic peace again breaking over his soul as he
thought of it; as he moved behind the celebrant at high mass, lifted the
pall of the chalice, and sang the exultant _Ite missa est_ when all was
done. What a power would be his on that day! He would have his finger
then on the huge engine of grace, and could turn it whither he would,
spraying infinite force on this and that soul, on Ralph stubbornly
fighting against God in London, on his mother silent and bitter at home,
on his father anxious and courageous, waiting for disaster, on Margaret
trembling in Rusper nunnery as she contemplated the defiance she had
flung in the King's face.

The Prior had given him but little encouragement; he had sent for him
one day, and told him that he might prepare himself for priesthood by
Michaelmas, for a foreign bishop was coming to them, and leave would be
obtained for him to administer the rite. But he had not said a word of
counsel or congratulation; but had nodded to the young monk, and turned
his sickly face to the papers again on his table.

Dom Anthony, the pleasant stout guest-master, who had preached the
sermon in Christmastide, said a word of comfort, as they walked in the
cloister together.

"You must not take it amiss, brother," he said, "my Lord Prior is beside
himself with terror. He does not know how to act."

Chris asked whether there were any new reason for alarm.

"Oh, no!" said the monk, "but the people are getting cold towards us
here. You have seen how few come to mass here now, or to confession.
They are going to the secular priests instead."

Chris remembered one or two other instances of this growing coldness.
The poor folks who came for food complained of its quality two or three
times; and one fellow, an old pensioner of the house, who had lost a
leg, threw his portion down on the doorstep.

"I will have better than that some day," he had said, as he limped off.
Chris had gathered up the cold lentils patiently and carried them back
to the kitchen.

On another day a farmer h