THE CHURCH IN THE SNOW Rosin Herries, when a very young man, paid his first visit to the South of Euyland. On a wintry day in the northern part of Glebeshire snow began to fall, to his astonishment, for he had understood that in Devonshire, Glebeshire and Cornwall snow was a great rarity, even in the extreme of winter. it was falling now with great thickness. He dis mounted from his horse and studied the drawn map that he had purchased in London. This was a rough map in red and black, with dolphins sporting in the sca, and a fine barque in full sail on the horizon. Nevertheless, it was excellent in its detail and he repeated to himself with pleasure the names—Rasselas, Pelynt Cross, Treddon Cove, St. Mary Moor. Where was he now? He looked over the bare, bleak land- scape, felt the snow stir coldly on his cheek, and then, pushing it from his eyes, saw most unexpectedly, quite close to hira, a little grey church. He stared hard lest it should be some hallucination, for he had been riding along a straight road for a considerable while, looking in front of him, and had seen nothing at all. There it was. There could be no question—small, sturdy, with a bell-rower, and, close beside it,a grey donkey tethered to a stone wall. He looked again; he must be near Garth-in-Rose- lands. Yes, and here, on the map, was the church —St. Michael and the Angels. That path to the 185MODERN SHORT STORIES right must lead to the village of Garth, and so beyond it down to Rasselas and the sea. He would take shelter in the church for a while, until this storm should be over. He walked across to it, leading his horse, found the door open and entered. Within, on one of the benches, a little table at his side, was seated a short, square-set priest, and the priest was painting on a board. Robin had tied his horse to the wall near to the donkey and now he walked up to the priest. “‘ Forgive me for my intrusion,” he said, “ but it is snowing and I thought I might shelter here until the snow was over.” The priest looked up at him smiling, He had the merriest face, brown and wrinkled, with an ugly, humorous mouth and soft grey eyes. Catholic priests now, at this time in Elizabeth’s reign, were rare: the most of them had been robbed, disbanded, turned out into the world for ruin and corruption. Robin looked over the pricst’s shoulder and gave a little cry: “ How beautiful ! ” he said. Praise is pleasant from anybody, and here was an elegant gentleman, in black aud silver, litde more than a boy, who very certainly meant what he said. The priest was delighted. He was certainly a master artist. The painting was for a window. The colonrs were hroken into little squares and oblongs and were exceedingly brilliant. ‘The scene was of a meadow in spring, thick with hawthorn blossom, and on the slope of the field a stout, elderly monk was kneeling. Near to him, another monk was standing, his hand on the rough neck of a patient donkey. Robin saw at once that this monk was the little man at his side and that the donkey was the one that he had scen near the church. 186 THE CHURCH IN THE SNOW “There is to be a window,” the priest explained, “in memory of our Abbot—Abbvt Anastasius—who was a very good and worthy man. Our monastery, of course, is dissolved, but some of us yet remain there although it is in ruin. We have permission. Yes, we are still living in our monastery at Royle Parden, two miles from here, by permission of the Queen, because we are Franciscans and have done no evil and are not concerned with any policies. I am the painter of this Group of our Order. That is Abbot Anastasius,” he said, pointing to the picture, “and here am I, and here is my donkey, Margaret. For they wished that there should be some other figures, and why not myself, who loved the Abbot as a son loves his father.” “And you make the windows in the monastery ? ” “ We are famous for our stained glass—such reds and purples and greens as ours are not to be found anywhere in the rest of England.” Robin marvelled at the painting for the brilliance of its colouring—the green of the meadow, the snowy white of the hawthorn, the blue of the sky and, round the base, in purple lettering, the name of the Abbot and the date of his death. He felt at once a warm Kinship with the priest. Religion had been always of deep interest to him: he was unlike his big brother, Nicholas, who cared for none of those things. He sat down beside the priest, who told him that his name was Brother Andrew, and before he knew it, Robin was telling him all about himself and his life. He was by nature reticent and reserved. He cared greatly for reading. He loved his home in the country, Mallory Court, where the pleached hedges were so warm, the flowers so fragrant, the splash of the fountain so musical. ‘The three people he loved most in the world were his father and mother and his 187MODERN SHORT STORIES brother Nicholas. His brother was a giant, the strongest man in England, the best, the bravest, the noblest hearted. Himself, he thought that he would never marry. Nor would he be a courtier. His friend, Philip Sidney, urged him to come to court, but he could never be alone there. He liked better than anything else to be alone, to ride, as he had been doing during these last days, by himself through the English country. He loved England so much, but there were many things wrong. He had passed groups of rioting disbanded soldiers, and wandering monks. He had seen rotting corpses hanging at the cross-roads, and in many places the people had not enough to eat. Why, if God were all-powerful, did He allow such things ? A very old question, Brother Andrew replied, and, when he himself was young, he had experienced a dreadful time when he had gone far from God and lived evilly with women, and slept in the ditches, a drunken man. Then, one night, as he was sleeping in such a ditch, the Lord Christ had appeared to him in a dream and had called to him to rise and eat and drink with Him at the side of the road. He had heard a voice calling to him out of the sky and the voice had said to him: “Andrew! Andrew! I have blessed thee and given thee the power to be thy own judge and act of thy own free will! And, because I have done thee this favour, when I might have made thee a slave to My will, thou hast disgracefully used Me and thyself also. Arise and be worthy of thy own self-command.” And so he had risen from the ditch and walked under the moon singing, and come to his right mind. Brother Andrew told all this as though it were as truly a fact as the picture that he was painting, so that Robin had to believe him. 188 THE CHURCH IN THE SNOW | It was plain that Brother Andrew, once he had started, was very ready to talk, and he continued, painting all the while, but telling Robin everything about his life. How they had, none of them, any sions in the world. “« And what about your donkey?” Robin asked. Brother Andrew grinned like a naughty boy caught in apple-stealing. Yes, the donkey, Margaret, was his and his alone. She loved him and would be obedient to no one else, but stuck her feet in the ground and showed her teeth, if anyone else tried to ride her. He had prayed to God about Margaret and asked that it might not be reckoned a fault in him that he Joved her so dearly. After the death of the Abbot and the dissolution of their monastery, he had been very lonely and had prayed that he might be given something or someone especial to love. And the very next morning a man had brought Margaret to the monastery, saying that he wished to sell her; | and Brother Andrew had some pence for a barrel of apples that he had sold, and he had bought her. ‘The man said that, in a little white circle on the underpart of her belly, the letters M.M. were | marked, that her name was Margaret, and that she was the most,human donkey in the whole world. | This she had proved to be, and that was why he would place her in the window, a thing that would be | a pleasure to the Abbot, who had been a very under- standing man and undoubtedly was, in Paradise, | an understanding Saint. Jt was now approaching the middle of the day and | Andrew asked Robin Herries whether he would eat with him, which Robin said he would be very glad to do. ‘When they went outside the church, Robin could aot restrain a cry, for the snow had ceased to fall, 189