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The Truce of God - A Tale of the Eleventh Century by George Henry Miles
page 47 of 222 (21%)

"Treasure it, my child," he said, "it is the faithful likeness of a
wonderful man--a man who may one day, with a few stout hearts to second
his energy, chastise the impious tyranny of the house of Franconia!" He
spoke with deep feeling, and, after pacing the room, with his arms
folded upon his broad breast, abruptly stalked through the door,
apparently absorbed in some momentous question.

No sooner had he gone, than Margaret turned to Linda, who still occupied
the corner, and dismissed her with a message to Father Omehr. When
alone, she knelt down before an ivory image of the Blessed Virgin and
prayed--not to the polished ivory--but to the Mother of purity whose
intercession it suggested, with a fervency and constancy which only they
venture to ridicule who cannot record the virtues of Mary without a
sneer.

Though not apprehensive, Father Omehr was pleased to learn from Linda
that the knife had not been poisoned. Gilbert's eye brightened at the
intelligence, though he had not given utterance to his fears--_fears_
they were--for even the young and brave recoil in terror from death,
when it assumes a form and hovers near in a detested shape. Having
informed the youth that a messenger had been despatched to his father,
the priest left Gilbert in charge of the sacristan, and proceeded on his
daily errand of mercy through the neighborhood. By men like him,
fervent, fearless, faithful, the rude Northern hordes were induced to
abandon their idolatry, and embrace the faith of the Church of Rome.
These noble missionaries slowly but surely prepared the canvas on which
were afterward laid, in colors of enduring brightness, the features of
Christian civilization.

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