She told him also of a hill-village of weavers, where she lived many
weeks, and learned to ply their trade in return for her lodging; and
where wayfaring men in the guise of cobblers, charcoal-burners or
goatherds came and taught strange doctrines at midnight in the poor
hovels. What they taught she could not clearly tell, save that they
believed each soul could commune directly with its Maker, without
need of priest or intercessor; also she had heard from some of their
disciples that there are two Gods, one of good and one of evil, and
that the God of evil has his throne in the Pope's palace in Rome.
But in spite of these dark teachings they were a mild and merciful
folk, full of loving-kindness toward poor persons and wayfarers; so
that her heart grieved for them when one day a Dominican monk
appeared in the village with a company of soldiers, and some of the
weavers were seized and dragged to prison, while others, with their
wives and babes, fled to the winter woods. She fled with them,
fearing to be charged with their heresy, and for months they lay hid
in desert places, the older and weaker, who fell sick from want and
exposure, being devoutly ministered to by their brethren, and dying
in the sure faith of heaven.
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