The King's Achievement. Robert Hugh Benson

      "Of course you will; it is but right. And I suppose I shall too."

      "Will you wait for him? Tell him we are going home by the mill. It is all over now."

      Ralph nodded, and Mary moved off down the glade to join the others.

      Ralph began to wonder how Nicholas would take the news of Chris' decision. Mary, he knew very well, would assent to it quietly as she did to all normal events, even though they were not what she would have wished; and probably her husband would assent too, for he had a great respect for a churchman. For himself his opinions were divided and he scarcely knew what he thought. From the temporal point of view Chris' step would be an advantage to him, for the vow of poverty would put an end to any claims upon the estate on the part of the younger son; but Ralph was sufficiently generous not to pay much attention to this. From the social point of view, no great difference would be made; it was as respectable to have a monk for a brother as a small squire, and Chris could never be more than this unless he made a good marriage. From the spiritual point of view—and here Ralph stopped and wondered whether it was very seriously worth considering. It was the normal thing of course to believe in the sublimity of the religious life and its peculiar dignity; but the new learning was beginning to put questions on the subject that had very considerably affected the normal view in Ralph's eyes. In that section of society where new ideas are generated and to which Ralph himself belonged, there were very odd tales being told; and it was beginning to be thought possible that monasticism had over-reached itself, and that in trying to convert the world it had itself been converted by the world. Ralph was proud enough of the honour of his family to wonder whether it was an unmixed gain that his own brother should join such ranks as these. And lastly there were the facts that he had learnt from his association with Cromwell that made him hesitate more than ever in giving Chris his sympathy. He had been thinking these points over in the parlour the night before when the others had left him, and during the day in the intervals of the sport; and he was beginning to come to the conclusion that all things considered he had better just acquiesce in the situation, and neither praise nor blame overmuch.

      It was a sleepy afternoon. The servants had all gone by now, and the horn-blowings and noises had died away in the direction of the mill; there was no leisure for stags to bray, as they crouched now far away in the bracken, listening large-eyed and trumpet-eared for the sounds of pursuit; only the hum of insect life in the hot evening sunshine filled the air; and Ralph began to fall asleep, his back against a fallen trunk.

      Then he suddenly awakened and saw his brother-in-law, black against the sky, looking down at him, from the saddle.

      "Well?" said Ralph, not moving.

      Nicholas began to explain. There were a hundred reasons, it seemed, for his coming home empty-handed; and where were his men?

      "They are all gone home," said Ralph, getting up and stretching himself.

       "I waited for you It is all over."

      "You understand," said Nicholas, putting his horse into motion, and beginning to explain all over again, "you understand that it had not been for that foul hound yelping, I should have had him here. I never miss such a shot; and then when we went after him—"

      "I understand perfectly, Nick," said Ralph. "You missed him because you did not shoot straight, and you did not catch him because you did not go fast enough. A lawyer could say no more."

      Nicholas threw back his head and laughed loudly, for the two were good friends.

      "Well, if you will have it," he said, "I was a damned fool. There! A lawyer dare not say as much—not to me, at any rate."

      Ralph found his man half a mile further on coming to meet him with his horse, and he mounted and rode on with Nicholas towards the mill.

      "I have something to tell you," he said presently. "Chris is to be a monk."

      "Mother of God!" cried Nicholas, half checking his horse, "and when was that arranged?"

      "Last night," went on Ralph. "He went to see the Holy Maid at St. Sepulchre's, and it seems that she told him he had a vocation; so there is an end of it."

      "And what do you all think of it?" asked the other.

      "Oh! I suppose he knows his business."

      Nicholas asked a number of questions, and was informed that Chris proposed to go to Lewes in a month's time. He was already twenty-three, the Prior had given his conditional consent before, and there was no need for waiting. Yes, they were Cluniacs; but Ralph believed that they were far from strict just at present. It need not be the end of Chris so far as this world was concerned.

      "But you must not say that to him," he went on, "he thinks it is heaven itself between four walls, and we shall have a great scene of farewell. I think I must go back to town before it takes place: I cannot do that kind of thing."

      Nicholas was not attending, and rode on in silence for a few yards, sucking in his lower lip.

      "We are lucky fellows, you and I," he said at last, "to have a monk to pray for us."

      Ralph glanced at him, for he was perfectly grave, and a rather intent and awed look was in his eyes.

      "I think a deal of that," he went on, "though I cannot talk to a churchman as I should. I had a terrible time with my Lord of Canterbury last year, at Otford. He was not a hunter like this one, and I knew not what else to speak of."

      Ralph's eyes narrowed with amusement.

      "What did you say to him?" he asked.

      "I forget," said Nicholas, "and I hope my lord did. Mary told me I behaved like a fool. But this one is better. I hear. He is at Ashford now with his hounds."

      They talked a little more about Chris, and Ralph soon saw on which side Nicholas ranged himself. It was an unfeigned pleasure to this hunting squire to have a monk for a brother-in-law; there was no knowing how short purgatory might not be for them all under the circumstances.

      It was evident, too, when they came up with the others a couple of miles further on, that Nicholas's attitude towards the young man had undergone a change. He looked at him with a deep respect, refrained from criticising his bloodless hands, and was soon riding on in front beside him, talking eagerly and deferentially, while Ralph followed with Mary and his father.

      "You have heard?" he said to her presently.

      "Father has just told me," she said. "We are very much pleased—dear

       Chris!"

      "And then there is Meg," put in her father.

      "Oh! Meg; yes, I knew she would. She is made for a nun."

      Sir James edged his horse in presently close to Ralph, as Mary went in front through a narrow opening in the wood.

      "Be good to him," he said. "He thinks so much of you."

      Ralph glanced up and smiled into the tender keen eyes that were looking into his own.

      "Why, of course, sir," he said.

      * * * * *

      It was an immense pleasure to Chris to notice the difference in Nicholas's behaviour towards him. There was none of that loud and cheerful rallying that stood for humour, no criticisms of his riding or his costume. The squire asked him a hundred questions, almost nervously, about the Holy Maid and himself, and what had passed between them.

      "They say the Host was carried to her through the air from Calais,

       Chris, when the King was there. Did you hear her speak of that?"

      Chris shook his head.

      "There was not time," he said.

      "And then there was the matter of the divorce—" Nicholas turned his head slightly; "Ralph cannot hear us, can he? Well—the matter of the divorce—I hear she denounced that, and would have none of it, and has written to the Pope, too."

      "They were saying