They were nearing the trodden path that led up a grassy slope tothe open gate in the wattle fence. The modest turret of the chapeleyed them over the roof of the hospice. Brother Oswin bounded upthe slope eagerly, his cherubic face bright with confidence, boundfor a new field of endeavour, and certain of mastering it. Therewas probably no pitfall here he would evade, but none of them wouldhold him for long, or damp his unquenchable ardour.

“Now remember all I’ve taught you,” saidCadfael. “Be obedient to Brother Simon. You will work for atime under him, as he did under Brother Mark. The superior is alayman from the Foregate, but you’ll see little of himbetween his occasional visitations and inspections, and he’sa good soul and listens to counsel. And I shall be in attendanceevery now and again, should you ever need me. Come, and I’llshow you where everything is.”

Brother Simon was a comfortable, round man in his forties. Hecame out to meet them at the porch, with a gangling boy of abouttwelve by the hand. The child’s eyes were white with the caulof blindness, but otherwise he was whole and comely, by no meansthe saddest sight to be found here, where the infected and diseasedmight find at once a refuge and a prison for their contagion, sincethey were not permitted to carry it into the streets of the town,among the uncorrupted. There were cripples sunning themselves inthe little orchard behind the hospice, old, pox-riddled men, andfaded women in the barn plaiting bands for the straw stooks as theywere stacked. Those who could work a little were glad to do so fortheir keep, those who could not were passive in the sun, unlessthey had skin rashes which the heat only aggravated. These keptunder the shade of the fruit-trees, or those most fevered in thechill of the chapel.

“As at present,” said Brother Simon, “we haveeighteen, which is not so ill, for so hot a season. Three areable-bodied, and mending of their sickness, which was notcontagious, and they’ll be on their way within days now. Butthere’ll be others, young man, there’ll always beothers. They come and go. Some by the roads, some out of thisworld’s bane. None the worse, I hope, for passing throughthat door in this place.”