'In the
beginning was the Word, and the Word was God.' That I firmly believe,
and that which I believe is absurd, I believe still more firmly. In fact
it should be absurd. If it were not so, I should not believe; I should
know. And it is not that which we know which gives eternal life; it is
faith only that saves."

He exposed the separated fibres to the sun and the dew, and every
morning he took care to turn them, to prevent them rotting; and he
rejoiced to find that he had become as simple as a child. When he had
twisted his cord, he cut reeds to make mats and baskets. The sepulchral
chamber resembled a basket-maker's workshop, and Paphnutius could pass
without difficulty from work to prayer. Yet still God was not merciful
to him, for one night he was awakened by a voice which froze him with
horror, for he guessed that it was the voice of the dead man.

The voice called quickly, in a light whisper--

"Helen! Helen! come and bathe with me! come quickly!"

A woman, whose mouth was close to the monk's ear, replied--

"Friend, I cannot rise; a man is lying on me."

Paphnutius suddenly perceived that his cheek rested on a woman's breast.
He recognised the player of the theorbo, who, partly relieved of his
weight, raised her breast. He clung tightly to the sweet, warm, perfumed
body, and consumed with the desire of damnation, he cried--

"Stay, stay, my heavenly one!"

But she was already standing on the threshold. She laughed, and her
smile gleamed in the silver rays of the moon.

"Why should I stay?" she said. "The shadow of a shadow is enough for a
lover endowed with such a lively imagination. Besides, you have sinned.
What more was needed?"

Paphnutius wept in the night, and when the dawn came, he murmured a
prayer that was a meek complaint--

"Jesus, my Jesus, why hast Thou forsaken me! Thou seest the danger in
which I am. Come, and help me, sweet Saviour. Since Thy Father no longer
loves me, and does not hear me, remember that I have but Thee. From Him
nothing is to be hoped; I cannot comprehend Him, and He cannot pity me.
But Thou was born of a woman, and that is why I trust in Thee. Remember
that Thou wast a man. I pray to Thee, not because Thou art God of God,
Light of light, very God of very God, but because Thou hast lived poor
and humble on this earth where now I suffer, because Satan has tempted
Thy flesh, because the sweat of agony has bedewed Thy face. It is to Thy
humanity that I pray, Jesus, m