by A. D. Crake
the centre of the altar, his face turned to the people as thesequence was ended, and the chanting of the gospel from the rood loftbegan, stood the celebrant, and Alfred gazed for the first time upon theface of Dunstan, brought out in strong relief by the glare of theartificial light.
He strove earnestly to concentrate his thoughts upon the sacred words.They were from the sixteenth of St. Matthew, beginning at the words:
"Then said Jesus unto His disciples, If any man will come after Me, lethim deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me.
"For whosoever will save his life, shall lose it and whosoever will losehis life for My sake, shall find it."
He could not but feel the strange coincidence that words such as theseshould come to strengthen him, when he felt he had most need to shelterhimself under the shadow of the Cross. The service proceeded, the creed,sanctus, and other choral portions being sung by the whole monastic bodyin sonorous strains; and for a time Alfred was able to make a virtue ofnecessity, and to give himself wholly to the solemnity; but when it wasover and the procession left the church, he sought an immediateinterview with the abbot, in company with Father Cuthbert.
Dunstan had removed his sacerdotal garments, and had returned to his owncell, which only differed in size from the cells of his brethren. Thefurniture was studiously plain: hard wooden chairs; an unvarnishedtable; a wooden bedstead, with no bed, and only a loose coverlet ofsackcloth; the walls uncovered by tapestry; the floor unfurnished withrushes;--such was the chamber of the man who had ruled England, andstill exercised the most unbounded spiritual influence in the land.
There was no ostentation in this; every monk in the monastery lived insimilar simplicity. Precious books and manuscripts, deeply laden withgold and colours, were deposited on coarse wooden shelves, while theBenedictine Breviary lay on the table, written by some learned andpainstaking scribe, skilful in illumination.
The appearance of the abbot was little changed since we last beheld him;perhaps care had traced a few more lines in his countenance, and hisgeneral manner was more prompt and decided, now that danger menaced him,for menace him he knew it did, although he hardly knew from what quarterthe bolt would fall.
A lay brother brought him some slight refreshment, the first he hadtaken during the day.
The humility inculcated by each precept of the order forbade the brotherin question to speak until his superior gave him leave to do so; butDunstan read at once the desire of his subordinate, and said:
"What hast thou to tell me, Brother Osgood?"
"Many people are without, seeking speech of thee."
"This is the case each day; are there any whose business appears pressing?"
"A company has arrived from Aescendune, or some such place in Mercia,and two of the party--a priest and a young layman--seek an immediateinterview, saying their business is of life and death."
"Aescendune!--admit them first."
The brother left the cell at once, and soon returned, ushering in FatherCuthbert and Alfred, who saluted the great churchman with all duehumility, and waited for him to speak, not without much evidentuneasiness; perhaps some little impatience was also manifest.
"Are you of the house of Aescendune, my son?" enquired Dunstan ofAlfred. "Methinks I know you by your likeness to your brother Elfric."
"I am the son of Ella, father; we have been sent on pressing business,which is notified by this parchment" (presenting the formal request onthe part of the brethren of Aescendune, which was the original cause oftheir journey) "but we have yet a more pressing matter to bring beforeyou: wicked men seek your life, my father."
"I am well aware of that; surely you do not dream, my son, that my eyesare closed to a fact known throughout unhappy England."
"But, my father, I speak of immediate danger, which God in His greatmercy enabled me to discover but last night; this very night the abbeywill be attacked, and your life or liberty in danger."
"This night!" said Dunstan, in surprise; "and how have you discoveredthis? Do not hesitate, my son tell me all."
Thus adjured, Alfred repeated the whole story of his discovery of theconcealed expedition.
"You saw the leaders closely then?" said Dunstan, when he had finished;"describe the elder one to me."
"A tall dark man, like a foreign soldier, in plain but rich apparel, ascar on the right cheek."
"Stay, my son, I know him; his name is Redwald, and he is the captain ofthe king's bodyguard. Now describe the other with whom he held converse."
"Father, I cannot."
"My son--" but Dunstan paused, for he saw that poor Alfred had coveredhis face with his hands, and he at once divined the truth, with fullconviction, at the same time, of the truth and earnestness of Alfred'sstatement.
"My son, God can dispose and turn the hearts of all men as seemeth bestto His wisdom; and I doubt not, in answer to our fervent prayers, Hewill turn the heart of your poor brother. Meanwhile, we ourselves willtake such precautions as shall spare him the guilt of sacrilege.
"Brother Osgood, summon the prior to my presence, and cause the brethrento assemble, one and all, in the chapter house: we have need of instantdeliberation."
The lay brother departed, and Dunstan, whose cheerfulness did not deserthim for one moment, chatted familiarly with Father Cuthbert, or perusedthe parchment the good father had just presented through Alfred.
"It is a great and pleasing thing," he said, "to behold how our Order isspreading through this benighted land, and how spiritual children ariseeverywhere to our holy father Benedict; surely the time is near at handwhen the wilderness shall blossom as the rose."
The prior, Father Guthlac, entered at this moment, and Dunstan talkedapart with him for some moments with extreme earnestness, but only thelast words which passed between them were audible.
"Yes, my brother, you have the words of Scripture," said Dunstan, "tosupport your proposal: 'When they persecute you in one city, flee yeunto another.'"
"Yet it is hard to leave a spot one has reared with such tender care."
"There was One Who left more for us; and I do not think they willdestroy the place, or even attempt to destroy it: they will fill it withthose 'slow bellies, those evil beasts,' the secular clergy, with theirwives."
"Fitter it should be a stye for hogs." [xxi]
"Nay, they are men after all; yet there is some reason to fear that,like hogs, they wallow in the mire of sensuality; but their day will bebut a short one."
"My father!"
"But a short one; it hath been foreshown me in visions of the night thatthe Evil One will triumph indeed, but that his triumph will be veryshort; and, alas a green tree which standeth in the pride of its youthand might must, ere the close of that triumph, be hewn down."
"By our hands, father?"
"God forbid! by the Hand of God, I speak but as it has been revealed to me."
It was a well-known fact that Dunstan either was subject to marvelloushallucinations, and was a monomaniac on that one point, while so wise inall other matters, or that he was the object of special revelations, andwas favoured with spiritual visions, as well as temptations, which donot ordinarily fall within the observation or experience of men.
So Father Guthlac and the rest of the company listened with the greatestreverence to his declaration, as to the words of an inspired oracle.
"But let us go to our brethren; they await us," said Dunstan, speakingto the prior. "Brother Osgood, take these our guests to therefectorarius, and ask him to see that they and all their company tasteour bounty at least this day; tomorrow we may have nought to offer them."
In the famous chapter of the whole house of Glastonbury which followed,and which became historical, prompt resolution was taken on Dunstan'sreport, which did honour to the brotherhood, as evincing both theirresignation and their trust in God, Who they believed would, to use thetouching phrase of the Psalmist, "turn their captivity as the rivers inthe south;" so that they "who went forth weeping, bearing good seed,should come again with joy, and b
ring their sheaves with them."
So it was at once agreed that the whole community should break upimmediately; that within the next hour all the monks should depart forthe various monasteries of the Benedictine order; and that Dunstanhimself, with but two companions, should take refuge across the sea,sailing from the nearest port on the Somersetshire coast.
A dozen of the brethren were to return with Father Cuthbert and Alfredto Aescendune at once, and to bear with them all the necessary powersfor the accomplishment of the good thane's wishes in regard to themonastery of St. Wilfred, while Father Cuthbert was then and thereadmitted by Dunstan to the order of St. Benedict--the necessity of thecase justifying some departure from the customary formalities.
All being completely ordered and arranged,
