"
"It is precisely the point on which I demand reckoning of you," said
Roland. "I fear I have acted hastily; if so, I must redeem my error as
I best may."
"You hold me then as a perfect stranger?" said the man. "Look at my
face more attentively, and see if the features do not resemble those
of a man much known to you formerly."
Roland gazed attentively; but the ideas recalled to his mind were so
inconsistent with the mean and servile dress of the person before him,
that he did not venture to express the opinion which he was
irresistibly induced to form.
"Yes, my son," said the stranger, observing his embarrassment, "you do
indeed see before you the unfortunate Father Ambrosius, who once
accounted his ministry crowned in your preservation from the snares of
heresy, but who is now condemned to lament thee as a castaway!"
Roland Graeme's kindness of heart was at least equal to his vivacity
of temper--he could not bear to see his ancient and honoured master
and spiritual guide in a situation which inferred a change of fortune
so melancholy, but throwing himself at his feet, grasped his knees and
wept aloud.
"What mean these tears, my son?" said the Abbot; "if they are shed for
your own sins and follies, surely they are gracious showers, and may
avail thee much--but weep not, if they fall on my account. You indeed
see the Superior of the community of Saint Mary's in the dress of a
poor sworder, who gives his master the use of his blade and buckler,
and, if needful, of his life, for a coarse livery coat and four marks
by the year.
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