Meredith paused, half closed his book, was evidently pondering for a minute, and then exclaimed, "I have learned something!"

"Why, so have we all," said his sister. "What now particularly?"

"I have got a hint."

"What about? There is no fortress for you to storm, and you do not want the treasure."

"I think I should like to have lived in those times," Meredith went on. "People were in earnest, Mr. Murray."

"Yes. So are some people in these times."

"But not the world generally; or only about making money. Then people were in earnest about things worth the while."

"It does seem so from these stories," said Mr. Murray; "but, dear Meredith, you may be equally in earnest about the same things now, and with as good reason."

"Isn't it more difficult, sir, when nobody else, or only a few here and there, think and feel with you?"

"Yes, more difficult; or rather, more easy to go to sleep; but so much the greater need of men who are not asleep. What is your hint? I am curious, with Miss Flora."

"The way that fellow spent his treasure, sir. I was thinking, wouldn't a chapel—that is, a little church—a little free church, at Meadow Park be a good thing? The nearest church is two miles off; we can drive to it, but the people who have no horses cannot, and the poor people"——

Meredith got a variety of answers to this suggestion. His sister opened her mouth for an outcry of dismay. Maggie clapped her hands with a burst of joy. Esther stared; and a smile, very sweet and wise, showed itself on Mr. Murray's lips.

"Quixotic!—ridiculous!" said Flora. "Isn't it, Mr. Murray? Ditto has not money enough for everything, either. A church!—and then, I suppose, a minister!"

"Is it a bad notion, Mr. Murray?" inquired Meredith.

"I should think not very."

"Is it extravagant?"

"Miss Flora thinks so."

"Well, Mr. Murray, think what it would cost!" cried the young lady.

"Not so much as a large evening party—that is, it ought not. I suppose Meredith is not thinking of stone carvings and painted windows, but of a neat, pleasant, pretty, plain house, where people can worship God and hear the words of life."

"That is it exactly," said Meredith.

"Then I should say that one very fine evening entertainment would build two."

"But the minister! he must be paid," said Flora.

"Yes, and I am not for starving a minister, either," said Mr. Murray. "But what is Meredith to do with his income, Miss Flora?"

"That's just what I want to know," remarked Meredith in an undertone; while Flora answered with some irritation—

"He can let it accumulate till he has made up his mind."

"'Riches kept for the owners of them, to their hurt,'" said Mr. Murray. "Better not, Miss Flora. Remember, Meredith is only a steward. 'The silver is mine, and the gold is mine,' saith the Lord of hosts."

"Do you mean, Mr. Murray, that we cannot do what we like with our money?"

"You can do what you like with it, certainly."

"But I mean, isn't it right for us to do what we like with it?"

"I should like to do that," murmured Meredith.

"Miss Flora, the question is, rightly stated,—May a steward use his lord's money for his own or his lord's pleasure?"

Flora coloured and pouted. "But that makes religion——Why, I never thought religion was strict like that. Then it isn't right to buy jewels or dresses?"

"Dresses—certainly."

"But I mean, rich dresses—dresses for company. And pictures—and horses—and books—and"——

"Stop, Miss Flora. The servant himself belongs to his lord; therefore he must make of himself the very best he can. For this, books will certainly be needed, and to some degree all the other things you have named, except jewels and what you call rich dresses. The only question in each case is—'How can I do the Lord's work best? how can I spend this money to honour and please Him most?' That will not always be by the cheapest dress that can be bought, nor by checking the cultivation of taste and the acquiring of knowledge, nor even by the foregoing of arts and accomplishments. Only the question comes back at every step, and must at every step be answered—'What does the Lord want me to do here? Does He wish me to spend this money—or time—on myself, or on somebody else?'"

"Why it would be always on somebody else," said Flora looking ready to burst into tears; "and there would be no real living at all—no enjoying of life."

"A mistake," said Mr. Murray quietly. "The Lord told us long ago—'He that will save his life shall lose it; and he that loseth his life for my sake, the same shall find it.'"

Flora put up her hand over her eyes, but Meredith's eyes sparkled.

"Then you think well of my plan, Mr. Murray?" he said.

"As far as I understand it."

"How would the Pavilion do, for a skeleton of the church?"

"O Ditto! the dear old Pavilion!" exclaimed Maggie.

"Why not? I do not want to shut myself off from everybody now; and I have the whole house—more than enough. And the Pavilion stands in a good place near the road."Mr. Murray and Meredith went into a discussion of the plan, and Maggie listened, while Flora after a while resumed her work and went moodily on with it. At last Mr. Murray remarked—

"This is not so interesting to everybody, Meredith, and we have time enough to talk it over. Suppose you go on reading."

"Do you like these Saxon stories?" said Meredith pleased.

"Very much."

"There is some more hero about—not DagefÖrde exactly; but that same fight, which I think you would like perhaps to hear."

"And, Meredith, you did not read us about that minister who was converted by the catechism," said Maggie.

"No, that is another story—Pastor GrÜnhagen. I will read to you first about the fight at the HÜnenburg.

"'The HÜnenburg is situated in a deep dell in the midst of the heath about an hour from Hermannsburg; and I will relate to you what I have found in the chronicle about it. It is nine hundred years now since a hard-fought and terrible battle took place here, which was fought between the Christians and the heathen. At that time the pious and Christian Kaiser, Otto the Great, ruled in Germany (A.D. 936-973), who loved the Lord his God with all his heart. He had gone away out of Germany into Italy, in order to free a captive queen who was kept in prison there by some godless folk. But he would not leave Germany without protection; therefore he made over this country to Duke Hermann, to govern it and to take care of it. In like manner Adaldag, Archbishop of Hamburg and Bremen, who went with the Kaiser, confided his dominions to the same guardianship. Now the Wends, who lived on the other side of the Elbe, especially in Mechlenburg, and had spread themselves abroad on this side the Elbe also, were at that time still heathen. And now when the Kaiser was absent, they thought the time was come for marauding and plundering, hunting the Christians out of their country, or utterly destroying them. So they summoned up all their warriors, and that so secretly that the Christians knew nothing of it until they came breaking into the country. As there was nowhere any preparation for defence against them, they robbed and plundered all that came in their way, burned down the churches, killed the priests, and dragged the rest into captivity for slaves. Duke Hermann was just then in the Bremen territory, from whence he had expelled the piratical Northmen (the Danes). There the terrible news found him. In the greatest haste he collected his warriors to come and save his country. For the Wends had already penetrated to LÜneburg, as far as this heath, and had laid everything waste with fire and sword; the Hermannsburg church was destroyed by them at that time. Here upon this ground they had made a strong encampment, and surrounded it with ditches and fortifications like a fortress; they were from fifty to sixty thousand men strong, in horsemen and footmen, and all of them alive with the same enraged hatred of the Christians, and determined that every trace of Christianity should be wiped away from the land. In August of the year 945 Duke Hermann marched hither out of the Bremen country, over the northern heights of Liddernhausen and Dohnsen. When he saw himself with his eight thousand men on foot and two thousand horsemen confronted by the great host of the Wends, he said to his faithful followers—"We must fight; whether God will give us the victory, we must leave with Him." Then stepped up one of his knights before him, who is called in the chronicle "the brave Conrad," of the now extinct race of them of Haselhorst, and spoke:—

"'"Let us get a token from God. I will go forward and challenge one of the enemy to single combat; so will the Lord show us to whom He has allotted the victory."

"'Duke Hermann gave permission. The knight, followed at some distance by a hundred men, who were to see that all was done in order, rode alone into the defile and challenged Mistewoi, the leader of the Wends, to send one of his people to meet him in single combat. Then stepped forward Zwentibold, a Wend of giant stature, clad in a dragon skin and with a shirt of link-mail over it, and on the head of his helmet the black image of his god Zernebok; behind him also a hundred men to look on. The Christian knight first called upon God to be his helper and protection: "Lord remember how Thou gavest strength to Thy servant David against the giant Goliath who had reviled Thy name; so now to-day establish Thy glory among the heathen, and show plainly that Thou art the true God."

"'Upon that, with lances in rest, they charged upon each other; and when the spears were splintered in that first shock, then it came to a fight with swords, man against man. Suddenly comes a traitor's arrow from the Wends flying through the air and kills the Christian's horse. But their wickedness turns to their own knight's ruin. For as the Wend gallops up to the fallen Christian, and is about to cut him down with a stroke from above, up springs the Christian knight and thrusts his sword in under the other's shoulder, so that he falls dead from his horse. The victory is won! But hereupon comes new treachery. For now those hundred Wends charge straight down upon the German knight. As his own attendants perceive this, they hasten to his help, nothing loath; the armies on both sides close in, and the fight soon becomes general. It is fought with the utmost bitterness and bravery on both sides till evening fall. But the Christians all the while press steadily forward.

"'While the men wielded the sword, the wives of the Christians came out to the field, drew away the wounded and sucked the blood from their wounds (because they believed that the arrows of the Wends were poisoned), bound them up, and encouraged their husbands and sons to make brave fight. A company of twelve priests carried a banner with a red cross on a white ground. The priests sang, "Kyrie Eleison!" ("Lord, have mercy upon us!") "Christe Eleison! Kyrie Eleison!" and the people chimed in. A terror of God went with them wherever they went and scattered the Wends from every place where the white banner came. As one of the heathen leaders with a company was making a determined rush upon the banner, the peasant of DagefÖrde drove his spear through the chieftain's coat of mail into his breast. Thereupon the heathen all fled. And all the Christians fell upon their knees, and all cried out, "Lord God, we praise Thee!" Then the priests spoke the benediction over the victorious host. And they left nothing remaining of the enemy's camp, but destroyed it entirely, because they would not suffer any heathen works upon their ground. But the name has remained; for HÜhnen was the name our forefathers gave to all heathen; that came from the Huns in the first place, who fell upon the Christians with such heathenish rage. So that place is called HÜhnenburg until this day.

"'The church at Hermannsburg was rebuilt again after that time. And soon also Christianity came to the Wends, and the Lord Jesus was conqueror over them all.'"

"You read part of that before," said Maggie.

"Part of the story; but I thought you would like to have the whole."

"Oh, I do. But I thought it was Zwentibold that Henning of DagefÖrde killed, when he was trying to get at the white banner."

"Maybe there were two Zwentibolds; or the story got a little confused among the old chroniclers."

"Then how is one to know which is true?"

"It is difficult, very often, Maggie," her uncle said smiling. "Human testimony is a strange thing, and very susceptible of getting confused."

"What will you read next, Ditto? About the minister who was converted?"

"Oh, no," said Flora. "Let the catechism alone. Haven't you got some more Saxon stories, Meredith?"

"Plenty. Which shall it be, Mr. Murray?"

"Saxon, for this time."

"'THE REMMIGA FARM.

"'As in my former narrations I have told of the glorious victory which with God's help Landolf gained over the old priest Heinrich and his children, I will tell you now of a third victory which the Lord granted him. An hour from here was a farm which in the chronicle is called the Remmiga manor; it was inhabited by a free man named Walo. His wife's name was Odela, sometimes the chronicle calls her Adela. The name is one, for the word Adel is often written and spoken as Odel in the old manuscripts. The pair had a son, who bore his father's name.

"'As owner of a head manor, Walo was at the same time priest of the community, which dignity always went along with the possession of a chief manor among the old Saxons. All the councils and courts of the community were held under his presidency; he brought the sacrifices thereto pertaining; and it is easy to imagine what consideration on all these accounts he enjoyed. This consideration was still further heightened by the fact of his knowledge of the old laws and customs, and by his incorruptible truth and uprightness. Like Heinrich, he too was at the beginning a determined enemy of the Christian religion. Landolf visited him frequently and told him about the Lord Jesus, but Walo's ear was deaf to the truth of the gospel. He knew from old legends that once upon a time two brothers, the white and the black Ewald, who had preached Christianity among the Saxons, had been by them sacrificed to their idols. And so, with Saxon tenacity holding fast to the old traditions, he told Landolf to his face that in justice he ought to suffer the same fate which had fallen upon the two Ewalds; and that it could not be carried out upon him, simply because the decision of the people, taken by the national assembly at the stone-houses, once taken became a law, according to which the free preaching of the gospel was permitted. Landolf did not allow himself to be daunted by this, but continued his visits and his teachings; for he observed that Walo, in spite of all that, always listened with attention when he told about the Lord Christ.

"'One day Landolf came again to Remmiga. He found Walo sitting in front of his dwelling, by the place of sacrifice, where the assemblies of the district were wont to be held, still and sunk in his own thoughts. Near him stood his wife Odela and his little son, who was perhaps twelve years old. The boy ran joyously to meet Landolf and said—"It is nice that you have come. I have just been asking father to let me go away with you; I would like to hear a great deal about the Lord Jesus; I want to be His disciple. Mother is glad; and," he whispered softly, "she loves the Son of God too; but father feels very troubled, and don't like it; he says he has lost his wife and his son to-day!" Odela gave Landolf her hand and spoke aloud. "Yes, I love Jesus; I want to be His disciple; but Walo will have none of it; and so I too will go with you, that I may hear about Jesus and be baptized."

"'Landolf hardly knew where he stood. Until this time Odela and her son had listened in silence when he talked about Jesus, but never a word had they spoken. Now they told him how, while he talked, the Lord Jesus had so grown in their hearts that they could not get loose from Him again; and they did not wish to get loose; for they wanted to be saved and to come into the Christian's heaven, where Jesus is and the holy angels.

"'Then up rose Walo, turned a dark look upon Landolf, and said to him, "Thou hast led astray my wife and my son with thy words, and now I have no wife and no son any more. Go out of my grounds; take my wife and my son with thee; they have no love for me any longer; their love is for Jesus."

"'"O Walo!" Landolf answered, "seest thou not yet that thy gods are dead idols? Dost thou not see that Jesus is the true, the living God? Jesus has won their hearts; thine idols cannot win hearts; thou mayest see that by thy wife and thy son. Let Jesus gain thy heart too. You shall all three be saved."

"'Walo shook his head. "He wins not my heart!"

"'"Then," cried the servant of the Lord joyfully, "then shall thy wife and thy son win thy heart for Jesus. Thy wife and thy son desire to be baptized. Thou canst not hinder them: they are free; they are noble born. I am going to baptize them now, this day, in thy presence; for they believe in Jesus that He is the Son of God. But I know that thy wife and thy son are dear to thee, and thou art very dear to them, only Jesus is dearer yet. Let them remain with thee after they are baptized; do not thrust them out from thy house. And if, when they are baptized, they love thee still better than formerly, if they are more dutiful to thee than formerly, wilt thou then believe that Jesus is mightier than thine idols? Thou hast often told me that Odela is proud and passionate, though in all else good and noble. Now if when she is baptized she becomes humble and gentle, wilt thou then believe that Jesus can give people new hearts?"

"'Walo looked at the glad Landolf with an astonished face. "Odela humble and gentle!" said he. "Yes, then I will believe that Jesus can make the heart new; I will believe that He is God, and I will worship Him."

"'"Give me thy right hand, Walo," said Landolf; "I know a Saxon keeps his word and never tells a lie, and Walo before all others."

"'They shook hands. Landolf did not delay. He went immediately for Hermann and Heinrich, and fetched them to share in his joy and to act as the sponsors. And oh, how gladly they came! That same evening Adela and her son were baptized in the name of the Triune God; and Landolf joyously reminded them that he had promised Walo his wife and his son should win his heart for Christ.

"'A year passed away, and on the very day on which Adela and her son had been baptized, Walo also received baptism; for the Christianised Adela had become humble and gentle, because Jesus dwelt in her heart; and after their baptism she and her son had loved the husband and father still more ardently, and had been more obedient to him than before. Walo confessed, "they are better than I." Oh, the Christian walk, the Christian walk! how mighty it is to convert! The walk of Christians is the living preaching of the living God.

"'And now a Christian chapel was erected by Walo at Remmiga, on the place of sacrifice; and around the chapel there rose up a Christian village, which established itself upon his soil and territory; a brook ran through the new village, which was therefore called Bekedorf, and is called so at the present day; it lies in the parish of Hermannsburg. The chapel stood till the Thirty Years' War; it was burnt down then by Tilly's marauders, and has never been built up again. But there is more of the story. Walo died old and full of days, in the arms of his wife and son. Landolf had gone home long before, and so had old Hermann and Heinrich. But the young Walo had grown to be the most faithful friend of Hermann's son, who was also named Hermann, and who by Kaiser Otto the Great was made Duke of Saxony. So then, when Hermann Billing was made the Kaiser's lieutenant of the kingdom in Northern Germany, upon occasion of Otto's journey into Italy, Hermann made his faithful Walo a graf, that is, one of the chief judges of the country; and he travelled about and wrought justice and righteousness, and was, as the Scripture says of an upright judge, "for a terror to evil-doers and the praise of them that did well." He married Odelinde, a noble young lady, who also loved the Saviour, and had been brought up by the good cloister ladies at the QuÄnenburg. They led a happy and God-fearing life, but they had no children. When now both of them were old and advanced in years, Odelinde one day was reminding her husband of the blessing she had received from the pious training of the cloister ladies; and she asked him whether, as they had no children, and were rich, they might not found another cloister with their money, in which noble young girls should be educated by good cloister sisters. Walo complied with her wish gladly; for he loved the kingdom of God, and at that time the cloisters were simply the abodes of piety; they were not yet places of idleness, but of diligence; not homes of lawlessness, but of modesty; not of superstition, but of faith.

"'About four miles from his place on the river BÖhme lay a wide tract of meadow land, bordered by a magnificent thick wood of oaks and beeches. When Walo travelled through the country as graf, he had often been greatly pleased with this spot; and it had occurred to him that such beauty ought not to remain any longer given up to wild beasts, but should become a dwelling-place for men. This thought recurred now vividly to his mind. His wife desired to see the place too. So they went to view it, and decided to build a cloister there, around which then other human dwellings would grow up, but the cloister itself should be the home of pious ladies whose special business should be the bringing up of nobly-born young girls. The wood was rooted up' (roden is to root up); 'and on the Rode' (that is, the space cleared) 'the cloister was built, which thereupon was called Walo's Rode; about which later the village Walsrode was settled, which still later spread itself out into a little city, having the cloister to thank for its origin. Walo not only built the cloister at his own expense, but also endowed it for its support with the tithes of the Bekedorf village, which belonged to the manor. It is but a little while since the Bekedorfers bought off these tithes.

"'I must state, however, that in my extracts from the chronicle there occurs a divergence from the usual dates. That is, I have formerly read under a picture of Graf Walo in the cloister church at Walsrode the number of the year 986. In my extracts, on the other hand, it is said that the cloister was founded by Walo in the year of grace 974, and consecrated by Bishop Landward of MÜnden. The last can be explained by the fact that the valley of the Oerze belonged to the see of MÜnden and not to the nearer Verden, and therefore Walsrode also being founded from hence, must be consecrated by the MÜnden bishop. But as to the difference of the two dates, I can do nothing further to clear that up, since I am no investigator of history, but have singly written down what I have found.'"