The sermon ended, he sat down on the pulpit stool, terribly shaken, But presently an idea very characteristic of the time took possession of him, He had sought her grave at Sevenbergen in vain.
She had now been permitted to appear to him, and show him that she was buried here; probably hard by that very pillar, where her spirit had showed itself to him.
This idea once adopted soon settled on his mind with all the Certainty of a fact.And he felt he had only to speak to the sexton (whom to his great disgust he had seen working during the sermon), to learn the spot where she was laid,The church was now quite empty.He came down from the pulpit and stepped through an aperture in the south wall on to the grass, and went up to the sexton.He knew him in a moment.But Jorian never suspected the poor lad, whose life he had saved, in this holy friar.The loss of his shapely beard had wonderfully altered the outline of his face.This had changed him even more than his tonsure, his short hair sprinkled with premature grey, and his cheeks thinned and paled by fasts and vigils.
"My son," said Friar Clement softly, "if you keep any memory of those whom you lay in the earth, prithee tell me is any Christian buried inside the church, near one of the pillars?""Nay, father," said Jorian, "here in the churchyard lie buried all that buried be.Why?""No matter, Prithee tell me then where lieth Margaret Brandt.""Margaret Brandt?" And Jorian stared stupidly at the speaker.
"She died about three years ago, and was buried here.""Oh, that is another matter," said Jorian; "that was before my time; the vicar could tell you, likely; if so be she was a gentlewoman, or at the least rich enough to pay him his fee.""Alas, my son, she was poor (and paid a heavy penalty for it); but born of decent folk.Her father, Peter, was a learned physician;she came hither from Sevenbergen - to die."When Clement had uttered these words his head sunk upon his breast, and he seemed to have no power nor wish to question Jorian more.I doubt even if he knew where he was.He was lost in the past.
Jorian put down his spade, and standing upright in the grave, set his arms akimbo, and said sulkily, "Are you making a fool of me, holy sir, or has some wag been making a fool of you!" And having relieved his mind thus, he proceeded to dig again, with a certain vigour that showed his somewhat irritable temper was ruffled.
Clement gazed at him with a puzzled but gently reproachful eye, for the tone was rude, and the words unintelligible.Good-natured, though crusty, Jorian had not thrown up three spadefuls ere he became ashamed of it himself."Why, what a base churl am I to speak thus to thee, holy father; and thou a standing there, looking at me like a lamb.Aha! I have it; 'tis Peter Brandt's grave you would fain see, not Margaret's.He does lie here; hard by the west door.There; I'll show you." And he laid down his spade, and put on his doublet and jerkin to go with the friar.
He did not know there was anybody sitting on Peter's tomb.Still less that she was watching for this holy friar.
Pietro Vanucci and Andrea did not recognize him without his beard.
The fact is, that the beard which has never known a razor grows in a very picturesque and characteristic form, and becomes a feature in the face; so that its removal may in some cases be an effectual disguise.
