t, the boy who usually slept so
soundly, and was so hard to waken?"

"Whence comes it," thought Stephanus, "that the young and strong sleep
so soundly and so much, and the old, who need rest, and even the sick,
sleep so lightly and so little. Is it that wakefulness may prolong the
little term of life, of which they dread the end? How is it that man
clings so fondly to this miserable existence, and would fain slink away,
and hide himself when the angel calls and the golden gates open before
him! We are like Saul, the Hebrew, who hid himself when they came to
him with the crown! My wound burns painfully; if only I had a drink of
water. If the poor child were not so sound asleep I might ask him for
the jar."

Stephanus listened to his son and would not wake him, when he heard his
heavy and regular breathing. He curled himself up shivering under the
sheep-skin which covered only half his body, for the icy night wind
now blew through the opening of the cave, which by day was as hot as an
oven.

Some long minutes wore away; at last he thought he perceived that Hermas
had raised himself. Yes, the sleeper must have wakened, for he began to
speak, and to call on the name of God.

The old man turned to his son and began softly, "Do you hear me, my
boy?"

"I cannot sleep," answered the youth.

"Then give me something to drink," asked Stephanus, "my wound burns
intolerably."

Hermas rose at once, and reached the water-jar to the sufferer.

"Thanks, thanks, my child," said the old man, feeling for the neck of
the jar. But he could not find it, and exclaimed with surprise: "How
damp and cold it is--this is clay, and our jar was a gourd."

"I have broken it," interrupted Hermas, "and Paulus lent me his."

"Well, well," said Stephanus anxious for drink; he gave the jar back to
his son, and waited till he had stretched himself again on his couch.
Then he asked anxiously: "You were out a long time this evening, the
gourd is broken, and you groaned in your sleep. Whom did you meet?"

"A demon of hell," answered Hermas. "And now the fiend pursues me into
our cave, and torments me in a variety of shapes."

"Drive it out then and pray," said the old man gravely. "Unclean spirits
flee at the name of God."

"I have called upon Him," sighed Hermas, "but in vain; I see women with
ruddy lips and flowing Hair, and white marble figures with rounded limbs
and flashing eyes beckon to me again and again."

"Then take the scourge," or