He had a slightly preaching style which caused Cadfael to smileinwardly, remembering Mark’s lovely simplicity, but he was agood man, hard-working, compassionate, and very deft with those bighands of his. Oswin would drink in his solemn homilies withreverence and wonder, and go about his work refreshed andunquestioning.

“I’ll see the lad round myself, if you’ll letme,” said Cadfael, hitching forward the laden scrip at hisgirdle. “I’ve brought you all the medicaments you askedfor, and some I thought might be needed, besides. We’ll findyou when we’re done.”

“And the news of Brother Mark?” asked Simon.

“Mark is already deacon. I have but to save my mostfearful confession a few more years, then, if need be, I’lldepart in peace.”

“According to Mark’s word?” wondered Simon,revealing unsuspected depths, and smiling to gloss them over. Itwas not often he spoke at such a venture.

“Well,” said Cadfael very thoughtfully,“I’ve always found Mark’s word good enough forme. You may well be right.” And he turned to Oswin, who hadfollowed this exchange with a face dutifully attentive andbewilderedly smiling, earnest to understand what evaded him likethistledown. “Come on, lad, let’s unload these and berid of the weight first, and then I’ll show you all that goeson here at Saint Giles.”

They passed through the hall, which was for eating and forsleeping, except for those too sick to be left among theirhealthier fellows. There was a large locked cupboard, to whichCadfael had his own key, and its shelves within were full of jars,flasks, bottles, wooden boxes for tablets, ointments, syrups,lotions, all the products of Cadfael’s workshop. Theyunloaded their scrips and filled the gaps along the shelves. Oswinenlarged with the importance of this mystery into which he had beeninitiated, and which he was now to practise in earnest.