The Brethren. Генри Райдер Хаггард

I love. Oh Jesu, give me strength to bear it if he should be preferred before me. Make me a perfect knight—strong to suffer and endure, and, if need be, to rejoice even in the joy of my supplanter.”

      At length the grey dawn broke, and the sunlight, passing through the eastern window, like a golden spear, pierced the dusk of the long church, which was built to the shape of a cross, so that only its transepts remained in shadow. Then came a sound of chanting, and at the western door entered the Prior, wearing all his robes, attended by the monks and acolytes, who swung censers. In the centre of the nave he halted and passed to the confessional, calling on Godwin to follow. So he went and knelt before the holy man, and there poured out all his heart. He confessed his sins. They were but few. He told him of the vision of his sickness, on which the Prior pondered long; of his deep love, his hopes, his fears, and his desire to be a warrior who once, as a lad, had wished to be a monk, not that he might shed blood, but to fight for the Cross of Christ against the Paynim, ending with a cry of—

      “Give me counsel, O my father. Give me counsel.”

      “Your own heart is your best counsellor,” was the priest’s answer. “Go as it guides you, knowing that, through it, it is God who guides. Nor fear that you will fail. But if love and the joys of life should leave you, then come back, and we will talk again. Go on, pure knight of Christ, fearing nothing and sure of the reward, and take with you the blessing of Christ and of his Church.”

      “What penance must I bear, father?”

      “Such souls as yours inflict their own penance. The saints forbid that I should add to it,” was the gentle answer.

      Then with a lightened heart Godwin returned to the altar rails, while his brother Wulf was summoned to take his place in the confessional. Of the sins that he had to tell we need not speak. They were such as are common to young men, and none of them very grievous. Still, before he gave him absolution, the good Prior admonished him to think less of his body and more of his spirit; less of the glory of feats of arms and more of the true ends to which he should enter on them. He bade him, moreover, to take his brother Godwin as an earthly guide and example, since there lived no better or wiser man of his years, and finally dismissed him, prophesying that if he would heed these counsels, he would come to great glory on earth and in heaven.

      “Father, I will do my best,” answered Wulf humbly; “but there cannot be two Godwins; and, father, sometimes I fear me that our paths will cross, since two men cannot win one woman.”

      “I know the trouble,” answered the Prior anxiously, “and with less noble-natured men it might be grave. But if it should come to this, then must the lady judge according to the wishes of her own heart, and he who loses her must be loyal in sorrow as in joy. Be sure that you take no base advantage of your brother in the hour of temptation, and bear him no bitterness should he win the bride.”

      “I think I can be sure of that,” said Wulf; “also that we, who have loved each other from birth, would die before we betrayed each other.”

      “I think so also,” answered the Prior; “but Satan is very strong.”

      Then Wulf also returned to the altar rails, and the full Mass was sung, and the Sacrament received by the two neophytes, and the offerings made all in their appointed order. Next they were led back to the Priory to rest and eat a little after their long night’s vigil in the cold church, and here they abode awhile, thinking their own thoughts, seated alone in the Prior’s chamber. At length Wulf, who seemed to be ill at ease, rose and laid his hand upon his brother’s shoulder, saying:

      “I can be silent no more; it was ever thus: that which is in my mind must out of it. I have words to say to you.”

      “Speak on, Wulf,” said Godwin.

      Wulf sat himself down again upon his stool, and for a while stared hard at nothing, for he did not seem to find it easy to begin this talk. Now Godwin could read his brother’s mind like a book, but Wulf could not always read Godwin’s, although, being twins who had been together from birth, their hearts were for the most part open to each other without the need of words.

      “It is of our cousin Rosamund, is it not?” asked Godwin presently.

      “Ay. Who else?”

      “And you would tell me that you love her, and that now you are a knight—almost—and hard on five-and twenty years of age, you would ask her to become your affianced wife?”

      “Yes, Godwin; it came into my heart when she rode the grey horse into the water, there upon the pier, and I thought that I should never see her any more. I tell you it came into my heart that life was not worth living nor death worth dying without her.”

      “Then, Wulf,” answered Godwin slowly, “what more is there to say? Ask on, and prosper. Why not? We have some lands, if not many, and Rosamund will not lack for them. Nor do I think that our uncle would forbid you, if she wills it, seeing that you are the properest man and the bravest in all this country side.”

      “Except my brother Godwin, who is all these things, and good and learned to boot, which I am not,” replied Wulf musingly. Then there was silence for a while, which he broke.

      “Godwin, our ill-luck is that you love her also, and that you thought the same thoughts which I did yonder on the quay-head.”

      Godwin flushed a little, and his long fingers tightened their grip upon his knee.

      “It is so,” he said quietly. “To my grief it is so. But Rosamund knows nothing of this, and should never know it if you will keep a watch upon your tongue. Moreover, you need not be jealous of me, before marriage or after.”

      “What, then, would you have me do?” asked Wulf hotly. “Seek her heart, and perchance—though this I doubt—let her yield it to me, she thinking that you care naught for her?”

      “Why not?” asked Godwin again, with a sigh; “it might save her some pain and you some doubt, and make my own path clearer. Marriage is more to you than to me, Wulf, who think sometimes that my sword should be my spouse and duty my only aim.”

      “Who think, having a heart of gold, that even in such a thing as this you will not bar the path of the brother whom you love. Nay, Godwin, as I am a sinful man, and as I desire her above all things on earth, I will play no such coward’s game, nor conquer one who will not lift his sword lest he should hurt me. Sooner would I bid you all farewell, and go to seek fortune or death in the wars without word spoken.”

      “Leaving Rosamund to pine, perchance. Oh, could we be sure that she had no mind toward either of us, that would be best—to begone together. But, Wulf, we cannot be sure, since at times, to be honest, I have thought she loves you.”

      “And at times, to be honest, Godwin, I have been sure that she loves you, although I should like to try my luck and hear it from her lips, which on such terms I will not do.”

      “What, then, is your plan, Wulf?”

      “My plan is that if our uncle gives us leave, we should both speak to her—you first, as the elder, setting out your case as best you can, and asking her to think of it and give you your answer within a day. Then, before that day is done I also should speak, so that she may know all the story, and play her part in it with opened eyes, not deeming, as otherwise she might, that we know each other’s minds, and that you ask because I have no will that way.”

      “It is very fair,” replied Godwin; “and worthy of you, who are the most honest of men. Yet, Wulf, I am troubled. See you, my brother, have ever brethren loved each other as we do? And now must the shadow of a woman fall upon and blight that love which is so fair and precious?”

      “Why so?” asked Wulf. “Come, Godwin, let us make a pact that it shall not be thus, and keep it by the help of heaven. Let us show the world that two men can love one woman and still love each other, not knowing as yet which of them she will choose—if, indeed, she chooses either. For, Godwin, we are not the only gentlemen whose eyes have turned, or yet may turn, towards the high-born, rich, and