“Yonder,” points the monk, “he cleared and cleaned for himself a little space which he made his workshop. And up in the pines he constructed a platform, which he walled and covered with boughs. And when he was not working or walking, he would be there among the branches, either singing or asleep. I used to envy him that nest in the pines.”
“And did he ever go to church?”
“He attended mass twice in our chapel, on Good Friday and on Easter Sunday, I think.”
“And did he visit the abbey often?”
“Only when he wanted cheese or olive oil.” (Shame, O Khalid!) “But he often repaired to the Hermitage. I went with him once to listen to his conversation with the Hermit. They often disagreed, but never quarrelled. I like that young man in spite of his oddities of thought, which savoured at times of infidelity. But he is honest, believe me; never tells a lie; and in a certain sense he is as pious