ear lord,' was the reply. 'In my lifetime I have seen
much grief and little solace. All I loved are dead.'

'But you are young. Could you without a pang say farewell to the world?'

Deodatus answered timidly:

'Here is peace.'

Continuing to question, Basil learnt that for this man the life of the
world was a weariness and a dread. Hardships of many kinds had
oppressed him from childhood; his was a meek soul, which had no place
amid the rudeness and violence of the times; from the first hour, the
cloistered life had cast a spell upon him.

'Here is peace,' he repeated. 'Here one can forget everything but to
worship God. Could I remain here, I were the happiest of men.'

And Basil mused, understanding, approving, yet unable to utter the same
words for himself. His eyes strayed towards the far valley, shimmering
in earliest daylight. He, too, had he not suffered dread things whilst
living in the world? And could he expect that life in the future would
be more kindly to him? None the less did his heart yearn for that
valley of human tribulation. He struggled to subdue it.

'Deodatus, pray for me, that I may have strength to do that which I see
to be the best.'

It was no forced humility. Very beautiful in Basil's eyes showed the
piety and calm which here surrounded him, and his reverence for the
founder of this house of peace fell little short of that with which he
regarded the Saints in heaven. Never before--unless it were at certain
moments when conversing with the Lady Silvia--had he felt the
loveliness of a life in which religion was supreme; and never,
assuredly, had there stirred within him a spirit so devout. He longed
to attain unto righteousness, that entire purity of will, which, it now
seemed to him, could be enjoyed only in monastic seclusion. All his
life he had heard praise of those who renounced the world; but their
merit had been to him a far-off, uncomprehended thing, without relation
to himself. Now he understood. A man, a sinner, it behoved him before
all else to chasten his soul that he might be pleasing unto God; and
behold the way! For one who had sinned so grievously, it might well be
that there was no other path of salvation.

This morning he went forth with the monks to labour. Brother Marcus
conducted him to a plot of garden ground where there was light work to
be done, and there left him. Willingly did Basil set about this task,
which broke the monotony of the day, and, more than that,