Cadmon was a lay brother, a tender of cattle at the Abbey of Whitby under the Abbess Hilda who founded it. Until somewhat spent in years he had never learnt any poems. Therefore at a feast, when all sang in turn, so soon as he saw the harp coming near him, he would rise and leave the table and go home. Once when he had gone thus from the feast to the stables, where he had night-charge of the beasts, as he yielded himself to sleep One stood over him and said, greeting him by name, "Cadmon, sing some song to me." "I cannot sing," he said, "and for this cause left I the feast." "But you shall sing to me," said the Vision. "Lord, what shall I sing?" Sing the Creation," said the Vision. Cadmon sang, and in the morning remembered what he had sung.

66

"If this indeed happened to Cædmon, and late in life" (mused Mr. Simeon, heaving on the bellows of the great organ), “might not even some such miracle befall me?"

Lord, I have loved the habitation of Thy house, and the place where Thine honour dwelleth.

"I might even write a play," thought Mr. Simeon.

CHAPTER XII

MR. ISIDORE TAKES CHARGE

"UNCLE COPAS," said Corona, as the two passed out through the small doorway in the southern aisle and stood blinking in the sunshine, "I want you next to show me what's left of the old Castle where the kings lived: that is, if you 're not tired."

"Tired, child? "Tis our business-'tis the Brethren's business-to act as guides around the relics of Merchester. By fetching a very small circuit we can take the Castle on our way, and afterwards walk home along the water-meads, my favourite path."

Corona slipped her hand into his confidentially. Together they left the Close, and passing under the King's Gate, turned down College Street, which led them by the brewhouse and outer porch of the great School. A little beyond it, where by a conduit one of the Mere's hurrying tributaries gushed beneath the road, they came to a regiment of noble elms guarding a gateway, into which Brother Copas turned aside. A second and quite unpretentious gateway admitted them to a green meadow, in shape a rough semicircle, enclosed by ruinated walls.

"You may come here most days of the month,"

said Brother Copas, holding the gate wide, "and never meet a soul. 'Tis the tranquillest, most forsaken spot in the city's ambit."

But here, as Corona caught her breath, he turned and stared. The enclosure was occupied by a squad of soldiers at drill.

They wore uniforms of khaki, and, dressed up with their backs to the gateway, were performing the simple movements of foot drill in face of a choleric sergeant-major, who shouted the words of command, and of a mounted officer who fronted the squad, silent, erect in saddle, upon a strapping bay. Some few paces behind this extremely military pair stood a couple of civilian spectators side by side, in attire— frock-coats, top-hats, white waistcoats-which at a little distance gave them an absurd resemblance to a brace of penguins.

"Heavens!" murmured Brother Copas. "Is it possible that Bamberger has become twins? One never knows of what these Jews are capable.

His gaze travelled from the two penguins to the horseman in khaki. He put up a shaking hand to shade it.

"Colt? Colt in regimentals? Oh, this must be vertigo!"

At a word from the sergeant-major the squad fell out and stood in loose order, plainly awaiting instruc

tions. Mr. Colt-yes, indeed it was the Chaplain -turned his charger's head half-about as the two frock-coated civilians stepped forward.

"Now, Mr. Bamberger, my men are at your disposal."

66 6

'Major,' tout court, if you please," Mr. Colt cor"One drops the 'reverend' while actu

rected him.

ally on military duty."

"So? Ach, pardon!-I should haf known. . . Now ze first is, we get ze angle of view, where to place our Grandt Standt so ze backgrount mek ze most pleasing pigture. At ze same time ze Standt must not tresbass-must not imbinge, hein?-upon our stage, our what-you-call-it area. Two t'ousand berformers-we haf not too mooch room. I will ask you, Mr. Major, first of all to let your men-zey haf tent-pegs, hein?—to let your men peg out ze area as I direct. Afterwards, with your leaf, you shall place z'em here-z'ere-in groups, zat I may see in some sort how ze groups combose, as we say. Himmel! what a backgroundt! Ze Cathedral, how it lifts over ze trees-Bar-fect! Now, if you will follow me a few paces to ze right, here . . . Ach! see yonder, by ze gate! Zat old man in ze red purple ponchohaf ze berformers already begon to aszemble zemselves? . .

Mr. Colt slewed his body about in the saddle. "Eh? . . . Oh, that 's Brother Copas, one of our Beauchamp Brethren. Medieval he looks, doesn't he? I assure you, sir, we keep the genuine article in Merchester."

"You haf old men dressed like zat?

dear Julius, I see zis Bageant retty-made!"

My

"It was at St. Hospital-the almshouse for these old fellows-that the notion first came into my head."

Will

"Sblendid! . . . We will haf a Brocession of them; or, it may be, a whole Ebisode. you bid him come closer, Mr. Major, zat I may study ze costume in its detail?”

"Certainly." Mr. Colt beckoned to Brother Copas, who came forward still holding Corona by the hand. "Brother Copas, Mr. Isidore Bamberger herebrother of Our Member-desires to make your acquaintance."

"I am honoured," said Brother Copas politely.

"Ach, so!" burst in Mr. Isidore. "I was telling the Major how moch I admire zat old costume of yours."

"It is not for sale, however." Brother Copas faced the two Hebrews with his ironical smile.

“I

am sorry to disappoint you, sirs, but I have no old clothes to dispose of, at present.”