No one wants to see them in heaven, I should think. Let them go to
their own place."

"It is wrong, I know it is. It must be. There is a better way--come
with me, boy, I would fain show thee something."

He led the wondering boy into the garden of the monastery. There in
the centre arose an artificial mount, and upon it stood a
cross--the figure of the Redeemer, bending, as in death, from the
rood. It was called "The Calvary," and men came there to pray.

The father bent his knee--the son did the same.

"Now, my boy, whom did He die for but His enemies? Even for His
murderers He cried, 'Father, forgive them!' And you would fain slay
them."

Hubert was silent.

"When thou art struck--"

"No one ever struck me without getting it back, at least no boy of
my own age," interrupted Hubert.

"And He said, 'When thou art smitten on one cheek, turn the other
to the smiter.'"

"But, my father, must we all be like that? I am sure I couldn't be
that sort of Christian; even the good earl Simon is not, nor Martin
either. Perhaps the chaplain is--do you think so?"

"Who is Martin?"

"The best boy I know, but I have seen him fight."

"Well, and thou may'st fight nay, must, as the world goes, in a
good cause, and there is a sword which thou must bear unsullied
through the conflict. But if thou avengest thine own private
wrongs, as I did, or bearest rancour against thy personal foes,
never wilt thou deliver me."

"Deliver thee?"

"Yes, my child. I am under a curse, because on the very day of the
great sacrifice on the Cross, on a Friday, I slew a man who had
insulted me. He died unhouselled, unanointed, unannealed, and his
ghost ever haunts my midnight hour."

"Even here, in this holy, consecrated place?"

"Even in the very church itself."

"Can any one else see it?"

"They have never done so. Perhaps as thou art of my blood, it might
be permitted thee."

"I will try. Let me stay this night with thee, and watch by thy
side in the church."

"Thou shalt be blessed in the deed. I will ask Sir Nicholas to
tarry the night if he can do so."

"Or I might ride back alone tomorrow."

"The forest is dangerous; the outlaws abound."

"That for the outlaws, hujus facio;" and Hubert snapped his
fingers. It was about the only scrap of Latin he cared for.

The father smiled sadly.

"Come, we are keeping Sir Nicholas waiting;" and they returned to
the great quadrangle, where they found that worthy striding up and
down