He swung the great axe twice or thrice in the air. His wife cowered down on the bed and hid her face in her lap. He swung the great axe again and brought it down with all his force on the lid of the chest just above the lock. It bit a deep dent in the iron. Again, and yet again, and at the third blow the tough iron was cut clean in twain and the lock fell to pieces. Gilbert dropped the axe and, flinging himself upon his knees, flung back the heavy lid. His wife started convulsively to her feet and peered over his shoulder. Within the chest sat a little naked Babe, clad in light and crowned with living glory. With one tiny hand it waved away a huge toad which crept poisonously towards it, and with the other it covered its eyes. It wept piteously as though its heart would break; the radiance of its body filled the chamber. Meg fell on her husband’s shoulder, uttering shriek after shriek. ‘I have sinned, I have sinned,’ she cried. ‘Have mercy, have mercy.’ Gilbert regarded her not. He clasped his hands in prayer before him, and his eyes were fixed in deepest devotion and pity on that fair naked Babe. ‘Listen, husband, listen,’ moaned Meg desperately, clinging to her husband’s neck. ‘I have done this: I put the Holy Wafer in the chest with the toad.’ As she finished speaking there came a blinding flash of light and the Holy Babe vanished. The room filled with a sweet odour and blissful music came up from the valleys. They fell upon their faces. IV Easter fell full early the year following, and it was a cruel, bitter season. Then it was that Sir Geoffrey’s new barn was levelled to the earth by weight of snow, and there was a great flood in the village by reason of the swelling of the stream. All the year preceding, Master Parson had come often to Four Lane Ends, and he comforted Meg as much as he might, bidding her earnestly to trust in the merits of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and to cease not from importuning the Blessed Virgin that she would intercede for her at the Throne of Grace. Moreover, he said that though her sins were as scarlet yet might they be whiter than snow, and that our God was a God of mercy and not of vengeance, and would abundantly pardon such as returned to Him with weeping and amendment. ‘Nay,’ quoth Meg sadly, ‘I have sinned the unpardonable sin for which there is no forgiveness.’ ‘Tush, tush, woman,’ cried Master Parson, ‘thou talkest nonsense. To sin against the Holy Ghost were indeed to be in evil case, but thou hast sinned against Christ alone, and He is full soft and kind and forgiving.’