and anxiety. Elave had got his letters early, from a priest who had seen his small parishioner’s promise and taken pains to bring it to fruit, and the boy had shamelessly enjoyed his superiority when he had worked in Aldwin’s company. He remembered now how he had happily passed on his own skills to the much older man, not out of any genuine wish to help him, but rather to impress and dazzle both Aldwin and the observers with his own cleverness. He was older and wiser now; he had discovered how great was the world and how small his own person. He was glad that Aldwin should have this secure place, this sound roof over his head, and no one now to threaten his tenure.
Jevan of Lythwood was just past forty, seven years younger than his brother, tall, erect, and lightly built, with a clean-shaven, scholarly face. He had not been formally educated in boyhood, but by reason of taking early to the craft of vellum-making he had come to the notice of lettered men who bought from him, monastics, clerks, even a few among the lords of local manors who had some learning, and being of very quick and eager intelligence he had set himself to learn from them, aroused their interest to help him forward, and turned himself into a scholar, the only person in this house who could read Latin, or more than a few words of English. It was good for business that the seller of parchments should measure up to the quality of his work, and understand the uses the cultured world made of it.
All these came hurrying in on Margaret’s heels to gather familiarly round the table, and welcome back the traveler and his news. The loss of William, old, fulfilled, and delivered from this world in a state of grace and to the resting place he had desired, was not a tragedy, but the completion of an altogether satisfactory life, the more easily and readily accepted because he had been gone from this household for seven years, and the gap he had left had closed gently, and had not now been torn open again by his recovered presence. Elave told what he could of the journey home, of the recurring bouts of illness, and the death, a gentle death in a clean bed and with a soul confessed and shriven, at Valognes, not far from the port where he should have embarked for home.
“And his funeral is to be tomorrow,” said Jevan. “At what hour?”
“After the Mass at ten. The abbot is to take the office himself. He stood by my master’s claim for admittance,” said Elave by way of explanation, “against some visiting canon there from Canterbury. One of the bishop’s deacons is traveling with him, and let out like a fool some old business of falling out with a traveling preacher, years ago, and this Gerbert would have every word dragged out again, and wanted to call William a heretic and refuse him entry, but the abbot set his foot firmly on that and let him in. I came close,” admitted Elave, roused at the recollection, “to sticking my own neck in a heretic’s collar, arguing with the man. And he’s one who doesn’t take kindly to being opposed. He could hardly turn on the abbot in his own house, but I doubt he feels much love for me. I’d better keep my head low till he moves on.”
“You did quite right,” said Margaret warmly, “to stand by your master. I hope it’s done you no harm.”
“Oh, surely not! It’s all past now. You’ll be at the Mass tomorrow?”
“Every man of us,” said Jevan, “and the women, too. And Girard, if we can find him in time, but he’s on the move, and may be near the border by now. He meant to come back for Saint Winifred’s feast, but there’s always the chance of delays among the border flocks.”
Elave had left the wooden box lying on the bench under the window. He rose to fetch it to the table. All eyes settled upon it with interest.
“This I was ordered to deliver into Master Girard’s hands. Master William sent it to him to be held in trust for Fortunata until her marriage. It’s her dowry. When he was so ill he thought of her, and said she must have a dowry. And this is what he sent.”
Jevan was the first to reach out to touch and handle it, fascinated by the beauty of the carving.
“This is rare work. Somewhere in the east he found this?” He took it up, surprised at the weight. “It makes a handsome treasury. What’s within it?”
“That I don’t know. It was near his death when he gave it to me and told me what he wanted. Nothing more, and I never questioned him. I had enough to do, then and afterward.”
“So you did,” said Margaret, “and you did it well, and we owe you thanks, for he was our kin, and a good man, and I’m glad he had so good a lad to see him safely all that way and back again home.” She took up the box from the table, where Jevan had laid it down, and was fingering the gilded carving with evident admiration. “Well, if it was sent to Girard, I’ll keep it aside until Girard comes home. This is the business of the man of the house.”
“Even the key,” said Jevan, “is a piece of art. So our Fortunata lives up to her name, as Uncle William always said she would. And the lucky girl still out marketing, and doesn’t yet know of her fortune!”
Margaret opened the tall press in a corner of the room, and laid both box and key on an upper shelf within. “There it stays until my husband comes home, and he’ll take good care of it until my girl shows a fancy to get wed, and maybe sets eyes on the lad she wants for husband.”
All eyes had followed William’s gift to its hiding place. Aldwin said sourly: “There’ll be a plenty will fancy her for wife, if they get wind she has goods to bring with her. She’ll have need of your good counsel, mistress.”
Conan had said nothing at all. He had never been a talker. His eyes followed the box until the door of the press closed on it, but all he had to say throughout was said at the last, when Elave rose to take his leave. The shepherd rose with him.
“I’ll be off, then, and take the pony, and see if I can find where the master is. But whether or not, I’ll be back by nightfall.”
They were all dispersing to their various occupations when Margaret drew Elave back by the sleeve, delaying him until the rest had gone.
“You’ll understand, I’m sure, how it is,” she said confidingly. “I wouldn’t say anything but just to you, Elave. You were always a good lad with the accounts, and worked hard, and to tell the honest truth, Aldwin is no match for you, though he does his best, and can manage well enough all that’s required of him. But he’s getting older, and has no home or folks of his own, and what would he do if we parted with him now? You’re young, there’s many a merchant would be glad to hire you, with your knowledge of the world. You won’t take it amiss
“
Elave had caught her drift long before this, and broke in hastily to reassure her. “No, no, never think of it! I never expected to have my old place back. I wouldn’t for the world put Aldwin out on the roads. I’m glad he should be secure the rest of his life. Never trouble for me, I shall look about me and find work to do. And as for bearing any grudge that I’m not asked back, I never so much as thought of it. Nothing but good have I had from this house, and I shan’t forget it. No, Aldwin can go on with his labors with all my goodwill.”
“That’s like the lad I remember!” she said with hearty relief. “I knew you’d take it as it’s meant. I hope you may
