Brownsmiths Boy - A Romance in a Garden - Page 128/241

"`It would not be his time if I could save his life,' said the young

monk.

"But still the old monks shook their heads, and said that no man had

ever yet heard of such a thing. It was too terrible to be thought of,

and they frowned very severely upon the young monk till the prior, who

had been very thoughtful, exclaimed:-"`And cutting the limb off the apple-tree made you think that?' "The young monk said that it was so.

"`But a man is not an apple-tree,' said the oldest monk present; and all

the others shook their heads again; but, oddly enough, a few minutes

later they nodded their heads, for the prior suddenly exclaimed:-"`Our brother is quite right, and he shall try.' "There was a strange thrill ran through the monks, but what the prior

said was law in those days, Grant, and in a few minutes it was known all

through the priory that Brother Anselm was going to cut off the poor

swineherd's leg.

"Then--I say, my boy, I wish you'd go on with your work. I can't talk

if you do not," said Old Brownsmith, with a comical look at me, and I

went on busily again while he continued his story.

"When Brother Anselm had obtained the prior's leave to try his

experiment he felt nervous and shrank from the task. He went down the

garden and looked at the trees that he had cut, and he felt more than

ever that a man was, as the monks said, not an apple-tree. Then he

examined the places which looked healthy and well, and he wondered

whether if he performed such an operation on the poor patient he also

would be healthy and well at the end of a week, and he shook his head

and felt nervous."

"If you please, Mr Brownsmith," I said, "I can't go on till you've

done, and I must hear the end."

He chuckled a little, and seating himself on a bushel basket which he

turned upside down, a couple of cats sprang in his lap, another got on

his shoulder, and he went on talking while I thrust an arm through one

of the rounds of the ladder, and leaned back against it as he went on.

"Well, Grant," he said, "Brother Anselm felt sorry now that he had leave

to perform his experiment, and he went slowly back to the cell and

talked to the poor swineherd, a fine handsome, young man with fair curly

brown hair and a skin as white as a woman's where the sun had not tanned

him.

"And he talked to him about how he felt; and the poor fellow said he

felt much better and much worse--that the pain had all gone, but that he

did not think he should ever be well any more.