the fury of an execration, Raymond turned and sped back to the
Monastery, not in any physical fear of the present vengeance of his foe,
but anxious to warn the keeper of the gate of the close proximity of one
who was so deadly a foe to Father Paul's protege.

Not a word of this adventure ever reached Roger's ears, and indeed
Raymond thought little of it after the next few weeks had passed without
farther molestation from the foe. The old woodman died. Roger, though
sincerely mourning his father, was too happy in returning health and
strength to be over-much cast down. His mind and body were alike growing
stronger. He was never permitted to speak of the past, nor of the
abominations of his prison house. Father Paul had from the first bidden
the boy to forget, or at least to strive to forget, all that had passed
there, and never let his thoughts or his words dwell upon it. Raymond,
despite an occasional access of boyish curiosity, ever kept this warning
in mind, and never sought to discover what Roger had done or had
suffered beneath the roof of Basildene. And so soon as the boy had
recovered some measure of health, both he and Raymond were regularly
instructed by Father Paul in such branches of learning as were likely to
be of most service to them in days to come.

Whether or not he hoped that they would embrace the religious life they
never knew. He never dropped a hint as to his desires on that point, and
they never asked him. They were happy in their quiet home. All the
brothers were kind to them, and the Father was an object of loving
veneration which bordered on adoration.

Two years slipped thus away so fast that it seemed scarce possible to
believe how time had fled by. Save that they had grown much both in body
and mind, the boys would have thought it had been months, not years,