But I made my
face as hard and cruel as the rest, and she
turned away, hopeless.
"When all was dark and still, I stole like
a cat to where she lay bound. I put my
hand on her wrist and whispered, `Trust
me, and I will take you safely home.'
I cut her bonds with my knife, and she
looked at me to show that she trusted.
Father, by terrible ways that I knew,
hidden from the others, I took her safe
to the convent gate. She knocked; they
opened; and she slipped inside. And, as
she left me, she turned and said, `God will
remember.'
"That was all. I could not go back to
the old bad life, and I had never learned
an honest way to earn my bread. So I
became a clown, and must be a clown until
I die."
"No! no! my son," cried the hermit,
and now his tears were tears of joy. "God
has remembered; your soul is in his sight
even as mine, who have prayed and
preached for forty years. Your treasure
waits for you on the heavenly shore just
as mine does."
"As YOURS? Father, you mock me!"
said the clown.
But when the hermit told him the story
of his prayer and the angel's answer, the
poor clown was transfigured with joy,
for he knew that his sins were forgiven.
And when the hermit went home to his
mountain, the clown went with him. He,
too, became a hermit, and spent his time
in praise and prayer.
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