|Englsih Short Stories|
The Bishop waved and the youth hastened his steps and scurried to the waiting Bishop. The Bishop was likely waiting for the youth. "You have gone late, you know I was preparing to go home." The bishop taunted him. The youth apologized the Bishop with a bow.
They tramped hurriedly in the cathedral and the bishop shepherded the youth to a sombre room where came rustles so high that the youth was dazed. His face was matted with sweats of perspiration and the bishop noticed them. He squelched the youth to remain solaced so as not to mingle the lesson. The bishop, seeing the tremulous youth, patted him with a little motivation.
The bishop lighted a kindle of flame on the molten wax. The youth was relieved. The tongue of flame danced to and fro, causing the mild, marshy room to gleam. The youth said,"Master, you have to bring a much more bigger fire. Maybe a torch, this slim flame has a little or no power against that of the caliginous room."
The bishop said,"Ah, this is the lesson today."
The youth came to be bewildered a great deal and was doomed to a never-ending thought. The bishop said,"You know nothing my disciple" The Bishop's took the light in his arm and put it on some heaps that were near the nook of that dark room.
The heaps burned and soon the room was blazed with glimmering light. The youth hid his visage so as to prevent it from boiling. The bishop said,"Silent men are like this my lad, they, like that previous flame, are seen to be fainting, trembling and dying.
But once they reveal their inner fire, they burn forests and towns to ashes. You thought how meagre was that faint flame, now you fear from the fire. My lad, the lesson today is that for silent people. Fear from the mute dog, then from the barking one .....