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After a moment, I said,  And they killed Father Quinel.
Bear sat bolt upright.  Killed the priest!' he cried.  In the sacred name of Jesus, why!'
'I don't know. But when he told me I had to leave, he also promised he'd tell me something of importance just before I left
Instead, he was slain.
'Have you any idea what he was to say!'
'Something about my father. And mother. So I think his death was my doing. God was punishing me,
'By killing His priest! It's a thing I've noticed, the big man said with laughing scorn,  that the greater a man's - or boy's -
ignorance of the world, the more certain he is that he sits in the centre of that world.
I hung my head.
'Crispin, he said after a moment of silence, 'I'll give you some advice .You re full of sadness. Those who bring remorse are
shunned. Do you know why!'
I shook my head.
'Because sorrow is the common fate of man. Who then would want more! But wit and laughter, Crispin, why, no one ever has
enough. When I think on the perfections of Our Saviour, I choose to think most upon His most perfect laughter. It must have
been the kind that makes us laugh too. For mirth is the coin that brings a welcome. Lose your sorrows, and you'll find your
freedom.
I remembered the word freedom as one which Father Quinel used.
After a moment I said,  But you gave me no choice other than to stay with you.
His eyes flashed with anger, enough so that I regretted I had spoken. But then, as happened so often with him, he laughed.
 Crispin, do you know why my hat is split into two parts!' 'No.
'Like all men with a skill, I wear the livery of my trade. For me, the two-part hat informs the world that there's more than a
simple nature residing in my soul. There s bad and good.
But I am only bad, I thought to myself, wishing yet again that I knew what sin was embedded in me to have brought God's
hand down so hard upon me.
'Crispin, said Bear,  a wise man - he was a jester by trade - once -told me that living by answers is a form of death. It's only
questions that keep you living. What think you of that!'
'I dent know, I said.
'Think on it. For we shall soon be passing out of this zone of desolation. From here on, as God is good, many living villages
shall appear. They'll be small, but if we labour well, we can survive, you and I. Will you join me! I give you the freedom to
choose.
'You re my master, I said.  I have no choice.
'Crispin, decide, he barked.
I shook my head.  It s not for me to do so.
'Should not every man be master of himself!' he asked.
'You made me call you master'
His face grew redder than it normally was.  You re a wilful fool, he bellowed. Clearly frustrated, he poked the fire.
'You'll go.
'As you command, I said. He frowned but only said,  Before we get there, you'll need to learn some things.
'What'
'Time enough for that tomorrow. Go to sleep. Without further ado, he lay down.
From the pouch around my neck, I took out my cross of lead and, upon my knees, prepared to pray.
'What are you doing!' I heard him ask.
I looked over my shoulder. 'Praying.
'What s that in your hand!'
'A cross of lead It was my mother's,' I said, holding it out for him to see.  It even has writing on it.
'Writing or not, it's useless, he said waving my hand away.  No more than a trinket[
'What do you mean?' I cried, fearing he was slipping back into madness.
'All these things ... your cross, your prayers. As God is near - and surely He always is - He needs no special words or objects
to approach Him.
'But this cross -' I began.
He cut me off.  I know what it is. It's made of lead, Made in countless numbers during the Great Death. Never blessed, they
were given to the dying as false comfort. They're as common as the leaves and just as sacred.
'Crispin, as Jesus is my witness, churches, priests  they re all unneeded. The only cross you need is the one in your heart.'
Greatly shocked, I didn't know what to say.
'But, he added, with a hard edge of anger,  if you so much as spoke my words in public, do you know what would happen to
you!'
'No.
'You'd be burned alive. So don't repeat them. And if you said I spoke them, I'd denounce you for a liar and a heretic. So, put
your cross away, I don't wish to see it again. Keep your faith to yourself
Though unsettled by his words, I turned away and made my prayers, the cross in my hands.
I prayed to St Giles and asked him to remember my father, whom I had never seen, my mother, whom I missed so deeply,
and, last of all, myself. I also promised him I'd not believe the things Bear had said. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]