It's
right that we should maintain the tradition. Besides, all those years in
Malta I've dreamed just this. Brother Birinus and I have stewed on those
sun-baked heights above Valetta and dreamed of this. What made you join
our Order?" he asked abruptly.
Mark told him about himself.
"I see, you want to keep your hand in, eh? Well, I suppose you might
have done worse for a couple of years. Now, I've never wanted to be a
priest. The Reverend Father would like me to be ordained, but I don't
think I should make a good priest. I believe if I were to become a
priest, I should lose my faith. That sounds a queer thing to say, and
I'd rather you didn't repeat it to any of those young men up there."
The monastery bell sounded on the wind.
"Three o'clock already," exclaimed the Prior. And crossing himself he
said the short prayer offered to God instead of the formal attendance at
the Office.
"Well, I mustn't let the horses get chilled. You'd better get back to
your casuals. By the way, I'm going to have Brother Nicholas to work out
here awhile, and I want you to act as guest-master. Brother Raymond
will be porter, and I'm going to send Brother Birinus off the farm to be
sacristan. I shall miss him out here, of course."
The Prior put his hand once more to the plough, and Mark went slowly
back to the Abbey.
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