In all parts of the monastery, busy hands were preparing for the coming danger. In the armoury, the harness and arms were being divided. Unfortunately there were many heads, and but few helmets. Then, the leather-work was in a somewhat dilapidated condition, and stood in great need of repair. In the treasury, the Abbot was superintending the packing up of precious articles, and holy relics. Many heavy boxes were thus filled. The golden cross with the holy blood; the white marble vase, which had once held the wine at the marriage of Cana; coffins with the remains of martyrs; the Abbot's staff, and the golden pixes,--all were carefully packed up, and brought over to the ships. Some, were also carrying off the heavy green emerald, weighing fully twenty-eight pounds. "The emerald, you may leave behind," said the Abbot. "The parting gift of the great Emperor Charles?--The rarest jewel of the cathedral? Another such the bowels of the earth do not contain?" asked the serving brother. "I know a glass-maker in Venetia, who can easily make another, if the Huns should carry this one away," carelessly replied the Abbot. So they put the jewel back into the cupboard. Before evening had set in, everything was ready for the departure. Then the Abbot commanded the brothers to assemble in the courtyard. All appeared, with the exception of one. "Where is Heribald?" asked he. Heribald was a pious monk, whose ways had many a time cheered up a desponding brother. In his infancy, his nurse had let him fall on the stone floor, and from that time, he had had a weakness of the brain; a certain softness,--but he possessed an excellent heart, and took as much delight in God's beautiful world, as any stronger-minded being. So they went to look for Heribald, and found him up in his cell. The yellow and grey cloister-cat, seemed to have offended him in some way; for he had fastened the cord which generally served him as a girdle, round its body; and hung it up on a nail in the ceiling. The poor old animal hung thus suspended in the air; screeching and mewing pitifully; whilst Heribald rocked it gently to and fro, talking Latin to it. "Come on Heribald!" called out his companions. "We must leave the island." "Let him fly, who will," replied the idiot. "Heribald won't go away." "Be good, Heribald, and follow us; the Abbot commands you." Then Heribald pulled off his shoe, and held it out to the brothers. "The shoe was already torn last year," said he. "Then Heribald went to the camerarius and said: 'give me my yearly portion of leather, that I may make myself a new pair of shoes.' But the camerarius replied: 'if thou didst not tread thy shoes all awry, then they would not tear,'--and so he refused the leather. Upon this, Heribald complained of the camerarius to the Abbot, but he said: 'a fool, as thou art, can well go barefoot.' Now Heribald has no decent shoes to put on; and he will not go amongst strangers with his torn ones."