before the angel, each stealing away with lowered eyes.
Even Brother Marcus had fallen short.
Even Brother Rufus looked downcast and sad.
And now, last of all, came the Abbot, with none of his accustomed lordly bearing, but with pale face and faltering tread. The angel's brow was clouded, and his eyes burned like lightning, as they rested sternly upon the Head of the Order.
Alas! again the scales hung uneven.
A silence deeper than they had ever before known reigned in the little chapel.
Only the birds sang gaily in the sunshine outside—the birds that had no cause to hang their heads in shame.
Then the angel spoke.
"Are all the brethren assembled here?"
The Abbot looked around, and answered, "All."
"Surely no," replied the heavenly visitant, "One is absent. Bring him to me."
