about this terror of death in the Scriptures. Those who settled my
fate to-day looked like men. Then they ought to know that they are
executing me a thousand times, not once. Why do I still live, I who
was slain three hours ago! Quick! From behind! If only they were so
merciful! One of them said to-day it was my duty to die. My God! I
think I have the right to die, and they're the criminals! They haven't
secured me my rights at once! It would have been over by now. O God,
my God, if only it were over!"

So he raged on, wringing his hands, groaning under the torture.
Suddenly his face became deathly white and his features stiffened as if
his heart had ceased beating.

"Poor fellow," said the priest, putting his arm round his neck and
drawing his head down on his breast. "You mustn't talk like that.
Think, if we've been sinners all our lives, oughtn't we to spend a few
days in repenting? Tell me, brother, don't you desire the consolations
of religion?"

"Indeed I do," stammered the poor sinner. "And so I asked----"

"You see, I am ready."

"And I also want the Gospels, if I may be allowed the book."

The monk looked at him, then demanded quietly:

"You want the New Testament?"

"I should like to read in it. My mother had one and used to read it