Marjorie Bowen

“ God His money is sacred even unto the evildoer. Surely I fear nothing."
"There is much wickedness in the heart of man," said Dirk. And he also smiled.
"Judge with charity," answered Ambrose of Menthon. "There is also much goodness. You speak, my son, with seeming bitterness which showeth a soul not yet at peace. The wages of the world are worthless, but God giveth immortality."
He rose and began fastening the saddle bags on the pony; as his back was turned Theirry and Dirk exchanged a quick look. ”

“ The monk rose and stood in a courteous, humble position.
"Can you put us on the high road, my father?" asked Dirk.
"Surely!" The monk glanced at the weary face of his questioner. "I am myself travelling from town to town, my son. And know this country well. Will you not rest a while?"
"Ay." Dirk came down the slope and flung himself along the grass; Theirry, half sullen, followed.
"Ye are both weary and in lack of food," said the monk gently. "Praise be to the angels that I have wherewithal to aid ye." ”

“ Opposite him on a throne supported by basalt lions was Michael II., robed in gold and silver tissues under a dalmatica of orange and crimson brocade.
"It is done," he said in a low eager voice, "and to-morrow I crown you in St. Peter's church; Theirry, it is done."
"Truly our fortunes are marvellous," answered Theirry, "to-day—when I heard the Princes elect me—an unknown adventurer!—when I heard the mob of Rome shout for me—I thought I had gone mad!"
"Are you afraid of me?" the other asked. "Why do you so seldom look at me?"
Theirry slowly turned his beautiful face. ”

“ The candle had burnt almost to the socket; the yellow flame struggling against extinction cast a fantastic leaping light over Jacobea, lying huddled along the bench with her yellow hair across the breast of her rough garment; over Theirry, leaning with slack limbs against the table; it showed his ghastly face, his staring eyes, his dropped jaw—as his laughter died into silence.
He crawled across the room and stared at Jacobea. She was not beautiful; he noticed that her hands were torn and stained with earth from making the graves of the nuns ... she had asked for Christian burial ... ”

“ If God His angel will it I desire to build a monastery up yonder—-above the snow."
He pointed through the trees towards the mountains; his eyes, that were blue-grey, the colour of his habit, sparkled softly. "A house to God His glory," he murmured. "In the whiteness of the snows. ”

“ For one who has never been an ardent lover ye dwell much on women—I had rather you thought on battles and kingdoms—had I been a—were I you, dancer and nun alike would be nothing to me compared with my coronation on the morrow. ”

“ Would ye had never come my way to be my ruin and your own—would you were not such a sweet fair fool that I must love you! ... and so, we make ourselves the mock of destiny by these complaints. Oh, if you have the desire to be king show the courage to dare a kingly fate. ”

“ Theirry stood dumb, and the mad hatred of the devil who had brought about this misery anew possessed him.
Jacobea spoke again. "Maybe they have met in Paradise—and as for me I hope God may think me fit to die—of late it seemed to me that the fiends were again troubling me"—she clasped her hands tightly on her knees and shivered; "something evil is abroad ... who is the dancer? ... last night I saw her crouching by my gate as I was making the grave of Sister Angela, and it seemed, it seemed, that she bewitched me—as the young scholar did, long ago."
Theirry leant heavily against the table. ”