The Miracle at St. Bruno's

I was hot with indignation for I thought her very ungrateful and I resented the reference to life in our household.

"My parents are very good to you," I said. "If they hadn't taken you in...”

Kate's mocking laughter rang out. "My brother and I are not beggars. Your father is paid well to manage our estate. Besides he is a sort of cousin.”

The boy had turned his gaze from Kate to me and I felt a strange exultation possess me. I thought of his being placed in the Christmas crib by angels and a great destiny awaiting him. There was a quality about him of which, young as I was, I was aware.

He was aloof, seeming to be conscious of the difference between himself and ordinary mortals. It was a sort of sublime arrogance. Kate had it too but hers was the result of her beauty and vitality. Although I was apprehensive I rejoiced that Kate had round the door in the wall and thus given me a chance to see him so closely. He seemed a good deal older than I although there was not a year between us. He was taller than Kate and capable of subduing even her.

Kate was bubbling over with questions. What was it like to be a holy child? she wanted to know. Did he remember anything about Heaven because he must have come from there, mustn't he? What was God like? What about the angels? Were they really as good as people said they were? That must be very dull.

He studied her with a sort of amused tolerance. "I cannot speak of these things to you," he said coldly.

"Why not? Holy people ought to be able to do anything. Being holy seems to be no different from anything else.”

She was deeply impressed by him however much she might pretend not to be, and it must have been clear to her that she could not tease or torment him as she did me.

He was too grave and yet there was a strange gleam in his eyes which I couldn't understand.

I thought of what I had overheard about his stealing cakes from the kitchen.

"Do you have lessons like everyone else?" I asked.

He replied that he studied Latin and Greek.

I told him enthusiastically that I studied with Mr. Brunton and at what stage I had reached.

"We didn't come through the door in the wall to talk of lessons," complained Kate.

She rose and turned a somersault on the lawn-she was adept at this and practiced it frequently. Keziah called it wanton behavior. Her object in doing it now, I knew, was to divert attention from me to herself.

We both looked on at Kate turning somersaults and suddenly she stopped and challenged the boy to join her.

"It would not be seemly," he said.

"Ah." Kate laughed triumphantly. "You mean you can't do it?”

"I could. I could do anything.”

"Prove it.”

He appeared to be at a loss for a moment and then I had the strange experience of seeing wayward Kate and the Holy Child turning somersaults on the Abbey grass.

"Come on, Damask," she commanded.

I joined them.

It was an afternoon to remember. When Kate had proved that she could turn somersaults at a greater speed than either of us, she called a halt and we sat on the grass and talked. We learned a little about the boy, who was called Bruno after the founder of the Abbey. He had never spoken to any other children. He took lessons with Brother Valerian and he learned about plants and herbs from Brother Ambrose. He was often with the Abbot whose house was the Abbot's Lodging and the Abbot had a servant who was a deaf-mute and as tall as a giant and as strong as a horse.

"It must be very lonely in an Abbey," I said.

"I have the monks. They are like brothers. It is not lonely all the time.”

"Listen," said Kate in her commanding way. "We'll come again. Don't tell anyone about the door under the ivy. We three shall meet again here. It'll be our secret.”

And we did. Any afternoon that we could get away we went through the secret door and very often we were joined by Bruno. It was a strange experience because at times we forgot how he had appeared in the Christmas crib and he seemed just like an ordinary boy, and sometimes we played games together-boisterous games at which Kate scored, but he liked guessing games too and that was when I had a chance. He and I were rivals in that just as he and Kate were at those which involved physical effort. He was always determined though to beat us both-his wits were sharper than mine and he had a physical strength which Kate could not match.

Of course, I said, it was what was to be expected of a Holy Child.

Rupert, though not quite fifteen years old, was working more and more in the fields.