The Cloister and the Hearth: A Tale of the Middle Ages

by Charles Reade

  CHAPTER XCI

  WHAT that sensitive mind, and tender conscience, and loving heart, andreligious soul, went through even in a few hours, under a situation sosudden and tremendous, is perhaps beyond the power of words to paint.

  Fancy yourself the man; then put yourself in his place!

  Were I to write a volume on it, we should have to come to that at last.

  I shall relate his next two overt acts. They indicate his state of mindafter the first fierce tempest of the soul had subsided.

  After spending the night with the dying hermit in giving and receivingholy consolations, he set out not for Rotterdam, but for Tergou. He wentthere to confront his fatal enemy the burgomaster, and, by means of thatparchment, whose history by-the-by was itself a romance, to make himdisgorge; and give Margaret her own.

  Heated and dusty, he stopped at the fountain, and there began to eat hisblack bread and drink of the water. But in the middle of his frugalmeal a female servant came running, and begged him to come and shriveher dying master. He returned the bread to his wallet, and followed herwithout a word.

  She took him--to the Stadthouse.

  He drew back with a little shudder when he saw her go in.

  But he almost instantly recovered himself, and followed her into thehouse, and up the stairs. And there in bed, propped up by pillows, layhis deadly enemy, looking already like a corpse.

  Clement eyed him a moment from the door, and thought of all--the tower,the wood, the letter. Then he said in a low voice, "Pax vobiscum!" Hetrembled a little while he said it.

  The sick man welcomed him as eagerly as his weak state permitted. "ThankHeaven, thou art come in time to absolve me from my sins, father, andpray for my soul, thou and thy brethren."

  "My son," said Clement, "before absolution cometh confession. In whichact there must be no reservation, as thou valuest thy soul's weal.Bethink thee, therefore, wherein thou hast most offended God and theChurch, while I offer up a prayer for wisdom to direct thee."

  Clement then kneeled and prayed; and, when he rose from his knees, hesaid to Ghysbrecht, with apparent calmness, "My son, confess thy sins."

  "Ah, father," said the sick man, "they are many and great."

  "Great then be thy penitence, my son; so shalt thou find God's mercygreat."

  Ghysbrecht put his hands together, and began to confess with everyappearance of contrition.

  He owned he had eaten meat in mid-Lent. He had often absented himselffrom mass on the Lord's day, and saints' day: and had trifled with otherreligious observances, which he enumerated with scrupulous fidelity.

  When he had done, the friar said, quietly, "'Tis well, my son. These befaults. Now to thy crimes. Thou hadst done better to begin with them."

  "Why, father, what crimes lie to my account if these be none?"

  "Am I confessing to thee, or thou to me?" said Clement, somewhatseverely.

  "Forgive me, father! Why, surely, I to you. But I know not what you callcrimes."

  "The seven deadly sins, art thou clear of them?"

  "Heaven forfend I should be guilty of them. I know them not by name."

  "Many do them all that cannot name them. Begin with that one which leadsto lying, theft, and murder."

  "I am quit of that one any way. How call you it?"

  "AVARICE, my son."

  "Avarice? Oh, as to that, I have been a saving man all my day; but Ihave kept a good table, and not altogether forgotten the poor. But,alas, I am a great sinner. Mayhap the next will catch me. What is thenext?"

  "We have not yet done with this one. Bethink thee, the Church is not tobe trifled with."

  "Alas! am I in a condition to trifle with her now? Avarice? Avarice?"

  He looked puzzled and innocent.

  "Hast thou ever robbed the fatherless?" inquired the friar.

  "Me? robbed the fatherless?" gasped Ghysbrecht; "not that I mind."

  "Once more, my son, I am forced to tell thee thou art trifling with theChurch. Miserable man! another evasion, and I leave thee, and fiendswill straightway gather round thy bed, and tear thee down to thebottomless pit."

  "Oh, leave me not! leave me not!" shrieked the terrified old man. "TheChurch knows all. I _must_ have robbed the fatherless. I will confess.Who shall I begin with? My memory for names is shaken."

  The defence was skilful, but in this case failed.

  "Hast thou forgotten Floris Brandt?" said Clement stonily.

  The sick man reared himself in bed in a pitiable state of terror.

  "How knew you that?" said he.

  "The Church knows many things," said Clement, coldly, "and by many waysthat are dark to thee. Miserable impenitent, you called her to your sidehoping to deceive her. You said 'I will not confess to the cure, but tosome friar who knows not my misdeeds. So will I cheat the Church on mydeath-bed, and die as I have lived.' But God, kinder to thee than thouart to thyself, sent to thee one whom thou couldst not deceive. He hastried thee; he was patient with thee, and warned thee not to trifle withholy Church; but all is in vain; thou canst not confess; for thou artimpenitent as a stone. Die, then, as thou hast lived. Methinks I see thefiends crowding round the bed for their prey. They wait but for me togo. And I go."

  He turned his back; but Ghysbrecht, in extremity of terror, caught himby the frock. "Oh, holy man, mercy! stay. I will confess all, all. Irobbed my friend Floris. Alas, would it had ended there; for he lostlittle by me; but I kept the land from Peter his son, and from Margaret,Peter's daughter. Yet I was always going to give it back; but Icouldn't, I couldn't."

  "Avarice, my son, avarice. Happy for thee 'tis not too late."

  "No. I will leave it her by will. She will not have long to wait for itnow: not above a month or two at farthest."

  "For which month's possession thou wouldst damn thy soul for ever. Thoufool!"

  The sick man groaned, and prayed the friar to be reasonable. The friarfirmly, but gently and persuasively, persisted, and with infinitepatience detached the dying man's gripe from another's property. Therewere times when his patience was tried, and he was on the point ofthrusting his hand into his bosom and producing the deed, which he hadbrought for that purpose; but after yesterday's outbreak he was on hisguard against choler; and, to conclude, he conquered his impatience; heconquered a personal repugnance to the man, so strong as to make his ownflesh creep all the time he was struggling with this miser for his soul:and at last, without a word about the deed, he won him to make full andprompt restitution.

  How the restitution was made will be briefly related elsewhere: alsocertain curious effects produced upon Ghysbrecht by it; and when and onwhat terms Ghysbrecht and Clement parted.

  I promise to relate two acts of the latter, indicative of his mind.

  This is one. The other is told in two words.

  As soon as he was quite sure Margaret had her own, and was a richwoman--

  HE DISAPPEARED.