monk in the convent. But ere the orders of Eustace, which nobody dreamed of disputing, were carried into execution, the necessity was prevented by the sudden apparition of the sacristan, whose supposed danger excited all the alarm.
Chapter VII
Raze out the written troubles of the brain,
Cleanse the foul bosom of the perilous stuff
That weighs upon the heart.
Macbeth.
What betwixt cold and fright the afflicted sacristan stood before his superior, propped on the friendly arm of the convent miller, drenched with water, and scarce able to utter a syllable.
After various attempts to speak, the first words he uttered were,
'Swim we merrily—the moon shines bright.'
'Swim we merrily!' retorted the abbot, indignantly; 'a merry night have ye chosen for swimming, and a becoming salutation to your superior!'
'Our brother is bewildered,' said Eustace;—'speak, Father Philip, how is it with you?'
'Good luck to your fishing,'
continued the sacristan, making a most dolorous attempt at the tune of his strange companion.
'Good luck to your fishing!' repeated the abbot, still more surprised than displeased; 'by my halidome, he is drunken with wine, and comes to our presence with his jolly catches in his throat! If bread and water can cure this folly '
'With your pardon, venerable father,' said the sub-prior, 'of water our brother has had enough; and methinks, the confusion of his eye is rather that of terror than of aught unbecoming his profession. Where did you find him, Hob Miller?'
'An it please your reverence, I did but go to shut the
