CHAPTER III


Fit to govern!
No, not to live. O nation miserable,
With an untitled tyrant, bloody-sceptred,
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again?

MACBETH.

The third Friday after Gilbert had been wounded, he mounted his horse,
and, accompanied by Father Omehr, set out for the Castle of Hers, which
lay some four leagues distant to the south.

"You are sad, Father," said the youth, who felt all the exhilaration of
returning strength, heightened by the freshness of the morning.

"It is true, my son; for though in all the trials of this pilgrimage I
endeavor to turn to God the cheerful face He loves to see in affliction,
I am sometimes weak enough to tremble at the gloomy period before us. We
are upon the eve of a tremendous struggle. You may not be aware of it,
for you are unaccustomed to watch events which govern the future for
good or evil; but the firmness of our Holy Father, and the increasing
recklessness and impiety of the emperor, must create an earthquake
sooner or later."

"My father," replied Gilbert, "has imputed to His Holiness a want of
firmness."