minute the holy place it hath taken six months of solitude to build. I
am a priest, a monk, and though my heart break I must be firm. My poor
Margaret, I seem cruel; yet I am kind; 'tis best we part; ay, this
moment."

But Margaret went away, and, determined to drive Clement from his
hermitage, returned again with their child, which she left in the cell
in its owner's absence. Now, Clement was fond of children, and, thinking
the infant had been deserted by some unfortunate mother, he at once set
to work to comfort it.

"Now bless thee, bless thee sweet innocent! I would not change thee for
e'en a cherub in heaven," said Clement. Soon the child was nestling in
the hermit's arms.

"I ikes oo," said the little boy. "Ot is oo? Is oo a man?"

"Ay, little heart, and a great sinner to boot"

"I ikes great tingers. Ting one a tory."

Clement chanted a child's story in a sort of recitative. The boy
listened with rapture, and presently succumbed to sleep.

Clement began to rock his new treasure in his arms, and to crone over
him a little lullaby well known in Tergon, with which his own mother had
often set him off.

He sighed deeply, and could not help thinking what might have been but
for a piece of paper with a lie in it.