From an Old Mine

DEW IN APRIL--John Clayton--Kendall & Sharp ($3).

The Middle Ages are a literary mine whose rich veins are still far from exhausted, are now beginning again to be reworked. Nineteenth Century romancers like Walter Scott and Charles Reade brought up so many tons of ore that the market for a time was overloaded, but the success of such modern miners as Lion Feuchtwanger (Power, The Ugly Duchess) and Alfred Neumann (The Devil) showed a renewing demand. Last week's medieval romance. Dew in April, did not assay nearly so high as Power orThe Devil, but it was much solider stuff than last year's highly touted The Fool of Venus (TIME, March 19, 1934). English Author John Clayton, new to the U. S. will not start a critic's gold rush, but Hollywood may well lift up its eyes to his auriferous hills.

Few moderns expect the world to end with a bang, at least in their own day, but the year 1212 seemed to many an appropriate date for Doomsday. Rumor set the exact time: the 12th day of the 12th month. Author Clayton begins his tale early in this ominous year, in romantic, ravaged Provence, where the fat lands of favored abbeys are set like islands in the war-swept countryside, and corpses hang high on every road. Holy Church has been chastening her heretical children. In the Abbey of La Soleza, whose fanatical head, Fray Sebastian, is a power of the Inquisition, the fat Monk Hilarius manages to eke out the monastic rule with copious drams and frequent visits to his plump doxy, who has borne him four sons. To this paganish priest comes young Soldier Pedro, with his belly full of fighting but sadly in need of food and drink.

Meantime the neighboring convent of Sant Lazare has taken in a beautiful young waif, Dolores. The saintly prioress soon finds she has got more than she bargained for. Dolores' passionate influence is like a spark among the dry tinder of the convent. The nuns work hard, rise early and sleep in their own coffins, but some of them are overyoung to be the brides of heaven. Among these, Dolores' influence seems sinister if not definitely devilish. The prioress thinks she can make her into a good nun. But then young Pedro comes prowling around the walls, sees Dolores, and the fat is in the fire.

Dolores and Pedro laugh at locksmiths to such purpose that when he goes off to the wars again she is no longer heaven's bride except in name. Her confessor, the dreaded Fray Sebastian, discovers her state, and his holy wrath is fanned by unholy jealousy. He dedicates his life to bringing these two paramours to a dreadful death. To anxious readers it may look for a time as if he would be successful, but Author Clayton steps in manfully in time's nick, turns tables right & left, ends his romantic melodrama with a thumping Hollywooden finale.

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