'Let be what will be.

He is worthier than I.' A knock sounded again at the door of the cell, and there entered Marcus.

His keen and kindly face betrayed perturbation of spirit, and after looking from Basil to the new comer and then at Basil again, he said in a nervous voice: 'The lord abbot bids you repair at once, my brother, to the prior's room.' 'I go,' was the prompt reply.
As they left the room, Marcus caught Basil's arm and whispered: 'It is the King of the Goths who awaits you.

But have courage, dear brother; his face is mild.

Despite his error, he has borne himself reverently to our holy father.' 'Know you what has passed between them ?' asked Basil, also in a whisper.
'That none may know.