He turned his face from the wall to which it had been set. Light was in the cell. He turned his body; he rose. “Oh, my Lady—”

In the torrent rush of feeling he came close before he kneeled. The light-swathed form stepped back from him. He knew overwhelming, aching, bursting sense of felicity that yet was pain, was hunger. The float of the red and blue drapery, the face that was the face of the picture, the height, the sense of heaven in one Form—

On his knees he came nearer. His eyes were not hidden as before, waiting for her to speak. He could not other; he did not think at all. He would have put hands about her feet and with his eyes drink power and beauty and love.

She went back from him again. Something untoward happened. Her foot and shoulder struck the great rood, pushed slightly forward from the wall. It spun aside. Behind it showed in plain light a low and narrow doorway, with door swinging outward, closed and hidden, all times but this, by the great cross. Light showed the very rope and pulley by which the masking wood was pushed forward and drawn back. Light showed through into Brother Norbert’s cell; in the very opening showed Brother Norbert and over his shoulder the white face of Brother Anselm. While Richard Englefield rose to his feet, the shape that he had esteemed of glory turned, bent itself and vanished through the opening. Light went out.

There was an effort to close the door but before it could be done his knee and shoulder were there to prevent. There was a sound of breathing, of muttering, then a hurry of feet. He broke through into Brother Norbert’s cell and felt that it was empty.

There was still a flickering light. It came from a great, thick candle, almost a torch of wax, thrown into a corner but not yet extinguished. He caught it up and the flame sprang whole again. It showed him much of apparatus. There was the yet unclosed opening above, reached by a short ladder, through which the shaft of light had been sent into his cell. There were other things,—tools, cords, bits of candle, cloths, what not. Mind light blazed. He saw why the cells had been emptied of old occupants; he saw that these openings had been made while he was at Middle Forest, he saw that they had used the great rood for mask. A mantle lay upon the floor,—red, with blue and red linings. He lifted it and saw that it was earthly cloth, though fine and thin. He saw the jointed wires that could be stretched by the hand and so the tissues be made to seem to float. He saw that they had put upon him a cheat. He dropped the mantle but kept the torch in hand. The door of the cell giving upon stone passage was swinging open. He burst through, he ran down the passage. This way would have gone the whole complex monster, to be overtaken and slain in fury. He ran, smoke and flame streaming behind him, but at the bend of passage came upon half a dozen monks. Of these, four seemed just awakened. But Brother Norbert and Brother Anselm were wildly awake. He threw down the torch, he closed with Brother Norbert. “Alas! Brother Richard! You are mad! Help!”

Brother William that was a giant fell upon him. They pinned him down. The sub-prior appeared with two or three more at his heels. “O Our Lady! Hath he gone mad!” He fought with them all. “Robbers of souls!” he shouted. They haled him into refectory that was near-by. One ran for Brother Walter the leech. But Brother Norbert and Brother Anselm vanished in the direction of the cell he had left. “You are cheats and murderers!” he cried, to the true bewilderment of three or four. Brother William, at a nod from the sub-prior, thrust cloth into his mouth, wound and tied the gag. Brother Walter came. “What is wrong? What is wrong? Doth he rave? They do so oft after so much hath come to them!” He was haled down the passage to the cell he had left. All was quiet there, ordered, still, plain monk’s cell, lighted only by the lights they brought. The opening was closed and the great rood in place. When he made to attack it, push it aside, they cried out in horror and the sub-prior ordered his arms tied. Finally, perhaps because he had ceased to struggle and seemed to be collecting his wits, and a madman with wits was notoriously dangerous, they bound him with a rope to the window stanchions and went off to put his case before the Abbot. Brother Walter the leech would have stayed, but the sub-prior sharply forbade. He seemed to hesitate whether or no to leave Brother Norbert but at last signed him forth. The rope was strong, the man was quiet. Let him be till council was taken! Solitude and none to hear was regimen, time out of mind, for mad monk!

They went. The cell was like a tomb, and he bound in it. It was dark, with a faint sense of morning in the air.

Despite all weakening Richard Englefield was yet strong of body. And he had rage that came like a giant to possess him, and a will that was now gathered, collected, and hurled through space to one point. He broke the cord that bound his arms. This done he could free himself from the gag and unknot at last the rope that bound him to the stanchions. It was now to break stanchion and cross bar and clear the window. He did this. He climbed through the window, held by his hands, dropped to earth. It had been impossible to the sub-prior or to Brother Norbert, but it was not impossible to him. It was all done quickly. Stone rang beneath his feet. Light shone in the Abbot’s house. Doubtless all were gathered there,—the thieves and murderers! Where was that one, that painted fiend, who had given him cap and bells to wear through life? Through life—through eternity! The church rose dark. He looked at the stars above it, and they seemed to him sparks from a mean and smoky fire. Now he was at Silver Cross outer wall. He climbed it and came down upon the other side with cuts and bruises that he did not feel. A palest light shone in the east. Behind him, over him, he heard the bell for lauds. He knew where ran the highway down Wander vale to Middle Forest. He went straight like a wild wind blowing down. All since he had waked was done as it were in one moment.