'Yes — yes, I remember it.' He was breathing a little faster now, blinking more often.
'It was never followed up, but I think it rang a bell in your mind. I think you went to the library, where you knew all the old plans of the monastery could be found. I saw them when you showed me the library; I remember then you seemed anxious I should not see them. I think you found the passage, Brother; I think you went in there and bored a spyhole into what is now our room. The kitchener said you had been lurking round the kitchen, where I now know the entrance to the passage is.'
He licked dry lips.
'You do not contradict me, Brother.'
'I — I know nothing of this.'
'No? Mark has heard noises some mornings, and I scoffed at him, saying it was mice. Today, though, he explored our room and found the door and the spyhole. I wondered who had been in there, I even suspected the infirmarian, but then I found something on the floor, under the spyhole. Something that glistened. And I realized that the man who had been looking in at us had not been out to spy. He had a different purpose.'
Brother Gabriel let out a groan that seemed to issue from the depths of his being. He sagged like a puppet with its strings cut.
'You have a love of young men, Brother Gabriel. It must have come to consume you utterly if you would go to such lengths to watch Mark Poer dressing in the morning.'
He swayed and I thought he would fall. He put a hand against the wall to steady himself. His face when he looked at me was first deathly pale, then it reddened with a burning flush.
'It is true,' he whispered. 'Jesu forgive me.'
'God's death, that must have made a strange journey, through that dolorous old cell with your cock swelling in the dark.'
'Please — please.' He raised a hand. 'Don't tell him, don't tell the boy.'
I took a step closer. 'Then tell me all you have been concealing. That passage is a secret way into the kitchen, where my predecessor was murdered.'
'I never wanted to be like this,' he hissed with sudden passion. 'Male beauty has obsessed me so long, since I first saw the image of St Sebastian in our church. My mind fixed on it as those of other boys did on St Agatha's breasts on her statue. But they could turn to matrimony. I was left alone with — this. I came here to escape the temptation.'
'To a monastery?' I asked incredulously.
'Yes.' He laughed, a desolate sound. 'Healthy young men do not become monks these days, or few of them. Mostly it is poor creatures like Simon, who cannot cope with life in the world. I had no lust for Simon, let alone old Alexander. I have sinned with other men but few times these past years, and never since the visitation. With prayer, with work, I have achieved control. But then visitors come, reeves from our lands in the shire, messengers, and I sometimes see — I see a beautiful boy who sets me afire, then I scarce know what I do.'
'And usually visitors are lodged in our room.'
He bowed his head. 'When the prior mentioned the passage I wondered if it might lead behind the visitors' room. You are right, I looked at the plans. God help me, I cut the spyhole to see them in their nakedness.' He looked over at Mark again, this time with a trapped, angry expression. 'Then you came, with him. I had to see him, he is so fine, he is like the culmination of — of my quest. For the ideal.' He started to speak quickly, almost gabbling. 'I would go into the passage when I guessed you would be rising. God forgive me, I was there yesterday, and on the day poor Simon was buried. I went again this morning, I could not resist. Oh, what have I become? Can a man be more humiliated before God?' He clenched his fist and raised it to his mouth, biting his hand till a bead of blood appeared.
It occurred to me he would have watched me dressing too, seen the bent back from which Mark always tactfully averted his gaze. It was not a pleasant thought.
I leaned forward. 'Listen to me, Brother. I have told Mark nothing yet. But you will tell me all you know about the deaths here, you will tell me what you have been holding back.'