"Your sacrifice is great, your willingness to give us the most costly of your possessions is worthy of much respect," Father Henri went on. "But we can accept only the mare, and that is because the stallion cannot do us any service. But you mustn't take it as any disrespect. The intent of your gift has already been received, and perhaps the Mother of God took mercy on you and thought that you had offered too much. And so I beg you to keep the stallion."

   As they hesitated at how to reply, Father Henri gave a little sign to Brother Guilbert, who bowed like a gentleman to them all and then led the mare in through the wooden gate, closing it behind him. Gunnar was very pleased, because he had been most reluctant to part with the stallion. But since the mare had always been a bit tricky to handle he was also surprised that the foreign monk was able to take her by the bridle just like that and lead her away through a narrow gate without her protesting in the least. He assumed that monks wouldn't know very much about horses.

   When Father Henri observed that the generous and grateful guests accepted his partial refusal of their gift, he settled in his chair with pleasure and asked out of courtesy whether there was any favor he might do for them, some form of intercession perhaps?

   Then Gunvor, blushing, asked if she might be allowed to thank the young monk in person, and she immediately apologized for her bold request but added that her betrothed was agreed with her in this matter.

   Perhaps she had expected that the old monk would scowl and find her question unseemly. But to her relief his face instantly lit up and he thought that it was an excellent suggestion. Then he jumped up as if he were a young man, turned to hurry off, but thought of something and stopped short.

   "But you must meet him alone," he said to the couple, smiling very broadly so that they could see a big gap between his lower teeth. "The young man would be unnecessarily timid if his prior were hovering over his shoulder. He isn't used to receiving thanks. But don't worry, he is one of you and will understand everything you say."

   Father Henri blessed his guests as he departed, humming softly as he strode quickly like quite a young man through the oaken door.

   They sat for a moment, talking about how they should interpret this response, but could find no explanation. In any case it did not seem unfitting for a young monk to be alone with guests, not even female ones, though it would have seemed improper for Gunvor and Gunnar to travel alone to Varnhem.

   When Arn, freshly washed and timid, came to meet them, Gunvor fell to her knees before him and took his hands, which she could do because her betrothed and mother Birgite and sister Kristina were standing nearby. With an outpouring of words she let her gratitude flow over Arn.

   But as she spoke she realized that the hands she was holding were in truth not those of a little boy. His hands were rough and as hard as stone; it was like taking hold of her father's hands, or a smith's. But when she looked up at Arn's bright visage it was as though his childlike and kind face did not belong with such hands. It occurred to her that Our Lady had perhaps not sent her a young monk at all, for these hands did not belong to a weak boy.

   Arn stood blushing and didn't know how to deal with the situation. On the one hand, he had to respect the young woman's genuine gratitude. On the other hand, he probably thought that she was directing her thanks in the wrong direction. He carefully pulled his hands free of hers as soon as he dared and asked her to get up. He blessed her words of thanks and reminded her that they should be directed instead higher up. Gunvor agreed at once, assuring him that this she would do for as long as she lived.

   Then Arn took the others by the hand, and they all felt and understood the same thing as Gunvor had when they clasped his calloused hands. They all sat for a while in embarrassed silence.

   Then Gunnar felt that he had to say something before it was too late, for if he did not say something now he would regret it for the rest of his life. It was also a man's way of showing courage and honor to speak bluntly of what he was thinking.

   And Gunnar began to explain, at first in a somewhat abrupt and stumbling fashion, that he and Gunvor for many years had loved each other in secret. They had constantly prayed to God for a miracle that might bring them together, despite the fact that there was no indication of such a possibility and even though both their fathers brushed aside their dreams as childish whims. But Gunnar had felt that he couldn't live without his Gunvor. And she had felt the same. On the day she was led away to the wedding ale, he had not wanted to go on living. And she had not wanted to live either. It may have been Our Lady who finally took pity on them, but it was Arn who had acted in her service and carried out her will.

   Hearing the words of this simple man who was sincerely trying to express the meaning of Grace in his coarse language, Arn felt both respect and gratitude. It was as though what he had already become reconciled with—his conviction that Father Henri's absolution was correct—had served as the scaffolding and the framework of a house but not a finished house. Yet with the gift of love that these simple peasants had received and for which they had now so fervently thanked him, God's humblest instrument, it felt as if the house suddenly stood there finished with the walls and the half-timbering and all the windows in place.

   "Gunnar, my friend," he said, rejoicing inside, "what you have said to me will stay with me forever, of that you can be sure. But all I can give the two of you in thanks are words from the Holy Scriptures, and do not think ill of that before you have heard what words they are. For it was your love that conquered all, and the Mother of God saw your love and then showed you mercy. So hear now the following words of the Lord and let these words forever live in your home and in your hearts:

Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame.

Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned.

   He had read the text in their own language so that they would understand. He had to repeat it several times to impress it upon their memory, and he told them where in the Holy Scriptures these words of God were found: The Song of Songs 8:6–7.

   When they parted, Gunvor took his hand again and then asked his name. Arn tried for the first time to use his name, the name that belonged to the other world, Arn Magnusson of Arnäs. But he could not do it; he felt arrogant. He told them merely that his name was Arn.