ostile spirits had seized upon him. He
would not have felt more sure of this had he seen fiendish eyes
flashing in the crevices of the neighbouring rocks. He felt conscious
of poisonous vapours within him; he felt the absence of all love, the
absence of all sorrow; he felt weariness, a great weight, the advance of
a mortal drowsiness. Once more he fell into stupid contemplation of the
noise of the river, and fixed his unseeing eyes upon the dark woods of
the Francolano. Before his mental vision passed slowly, automatically,
the image of the evil priest, who had lived there with his court of
harlots. He felt weary from kneeling, and let himself sink to the
ground. Again he was the slow automaton. With a painful effort he rose
to a sitting posture, and dropped his hand upon the tufts of soft,
sweet-smelling grass, pushing up between the stones. He closed his eyes
in enjoyment of the sweetness of that soft touch, of the wild odour,
of rest, and he saw Jeanne, pale under the drooping brim of her black,
plumed hat, smiling at him, her eyes wet with tears. His heart beat
fast, fast, ever faster; a thread, only a thread of will-power held him
back on the downward slope leading him to answer the invitation of
that face. With wide eyes, his arms extended, his hands spread open,
he uttered a long groan. Then, suddenly fearing some nocturnal wayfarer
might have heard him, he held his breath, listening. Silence: silence in
all things save the river. His heart was growing more calm. "My God! my
God!" he murmured, horrified at the he had been in, at the abyss he had
crossed. He clung with his eyes, with his soul, to the great, sacred,
cube-shaped Santa Scolastica, down below with its squat, friendly tower,
which he loved. In spirit he passed through the shadows and the roofs;
he had a vision of the church, of the lighted lamp, of the tabernacle,
of the Sacrament, at which he gazed hungrily. With an effort he pictured
to himself the cloisters, the cells, the great crosses near the monks'
couches, the seraphic face of his sleeping master. He continued in this
effort as long as possible, checking in anguish of soul frequent flashes
of the drooping plumed hat and of the pale face, until these flashes
grew fainter, and were finally lost in the unconscious depths of his
soul. Then he rose wearily to his feet, and slowly, as though his
movements were controlled by a consciousness of great majesty, he
clasped his hands and rested his chin upon