ainst a long voyage, fitted with sturdy mast of pine and
broad sail. And think of the Mass as sung, with special prayer to Him
who is the confidence of them that are afar off upon the sea. And
think of the leave-taking and blessing as over and done, and of the
Sea-farers as all aboard, eleven brethren and Ambrose the chorister, a
little lad of nine summers.

Now all is cast loose, and the red sail is drawn up the mast and set
puffing, and the ship goes out, dipping and springing, into the deep.
On the shore the religious stand watching; and Serapion is at the
rudder, steering and glancing back; and the others aboard are waving
hands landward; and on a thwart beside the mast stands the little lad,
and at a sign from Serapion he lifts up his clear sweet voice, singing
joyfully the _Kyrie eleison_ of the Litany. The eleven join in the
glad song, and it is caught up by the voices of those on shore, as
though it were by an organ; and as he sings the lad Ambrose watches the
white ruffled wake-water of the ship, how it streams between the
unbroken green sea on either hand, and it seems to him most like the
running of a shallow brook when it goes ruffling over the pebbles in
the greenwood.

To those on ship and to those on shore the song of each grew a fainter
hearing as the distance widened; and the magnitude of the ship
lessened; and first the hull went down the bulge of the ocean, and next
the sail; and long ere it was sunset all trace of the Sea-farers had
vanished away.

Now is this company of twelve gone forth into the great waters; far
from the beloved house of the Holy Face are they gone, and far from the
blithesome green aspect of the good earth; and no man of them knoweth
what bane or blessing is in store for him, or whether he shall ever
again tread on grass or ground. A little tearfully they think of their
dear cloister-mates, but they are high of heart nothing the less.
Their ship is their garth, and cloister, and choir, wherein they praise
God with full voices through all the hours from matins to compline.

Of the bright weather and fresh wind which carried them westward many
days it would be tedious to tell, and indeed little that was strange
did they see at that time, save it were a small bird flying high
athwart their course, and a tree, with its branches and green leaves
unlopped, which lay in the swing of the wave; but whither and whence
the bird was flying, or where that tree grew in soil, they cou