by daily toleration and soft endearments,
grew to such rapid maturity, that the walls of the monastery would have
fallen asunder by the pressure of its bulk, and come under the sway of
the Evil One, had not the Father Abbot expostulated with his children,
and seasonably persuaded them to avoid their vicious ways.

Now, it so happened, that in the cool of one summer's afternoon, Ruus
went forth to walk in a wood; and though the air which he breathed was
pure, and the generous sun, mindless of good or bad, poured around an
equal distribution of his tempered warmth, Ruus, throwing aside,
nevertheless, the harsher trammels of honesty, relaxed to his genial
depravity; for, observing at a little distance a fine fat cow, he
approached and slew her; and, taking on his shoulders a quarter to the
monastery, left the remaining three-quarters hanging on a tree.

Merry and content of heart, and chanting a native ditty to some young
girl he loved, a peasant, to whom the cow belonged, came soon afterwards
to seek her; and, when he saw the three-quarters hanging on the tree,
his mirth soon ceased, and with wringing hands, uttering sigh after
sigh, he knew no bounds of grief, since his wealth exceeded not the
cow's possession; but, his sorrow softening at length into moderation,
he became lost in the opposite intensity of feeling; and, stung by
anger, resolved to climb another tree, and, watching till the thief
should come to take the rest of the animal, beat him to death.

The sun began to sink, the cool breath of evening prevailing over the
warmer atmosphere of the day; and, ever and anon, the soft sighing of
the air brought to the peasant's ear the faint murmur of voices. While
sitting on a lofty tree concealed among the branches, and looking down
through the foliage he observed, assembled round the trunk, a vast
number of devil's imps playing their pranks, whispering of Ruus, and
telling each other how Ruus designed to invite the old Abbot and his
monks to partake of an entertainment in hell. The peasant, terrified at
all he heard and saw, and, watching his opportunity, descended
furtively from his hiding-place, and, repairing on the morrow to Esrom,
told his story to the Abbot.

When the Abbot heard the peasant's tale, in wonder and alarm, he ordered
the monks to the church, and, amid the solemn tolling of the bell,
throwing himself prostrate on the cold pavement, began to read and sing.
Ruus, who had ever shown himself a waywa