been my sin."

Gradually the face of the image changed its expression. Little by little
the lips of Thais, by lowering at the corners of the mouth, expressed a
mysterious suffering. Her large eyes were filled with tears and lights;
her breast heaved with sighs, like the sighing of a wind that precedes
a tempest. At this sight Paphnutius was troubled to the bottom of his
soul. Prostrating himself on the floor, he uttered this prayer--

"Thou who hast put pity in our hearts, like the morning dew upon the
fields, O just and merciful God, be Thou blessed! Praise! praise be unto
Thee! Put away from Thy servant that false tenderness which tempts to
concupiscence, and grant that I may only love Thy creatures in Thee, for
they pass away, but Thou endurest for ever. If I care for this woman,
it is only because she is Thy handiwork. The angels themselves feel
pity for her. Is she not, O Lord, the breath of Thy mouth? Let her not
continue to sin with many citizens and strangers. There is great pity
for her in my heart. Her wickednesses are abominable, and but to think
of them makes my flesh creep. But the more wicked she is, the more do I
lament for her. I weep when I think that the devils will torment her to
all eternity."

As he was meditating in this way, he saw a little jackal lying at his
feet. He felt much surprised, for the door of his cell had been closed
since the morning. The animal seemed to read the Abbot's thoughts, and
wagged its tail like a dog. Paphnutius made the sign of the cross and
the beast vanished. He knew then that, for the first time, the devil had
entered his cell, and he uttered a short prayer; then he thought again
about Thais.