night-time; he clawed the dying sinner, pounced on the unbaptized
babe, and twisted the limbs of the epileptic. A foul fiend slunk
ever by a man's side and whispered villainies in his ear, while
above him there hovered an angel of grace who pointed to the steep
and narrow track. How could one doubt these things, when Pope and
priest and scholar and King were all united in believing them,
with no single voice of question in the whole wide world?

Every book read, every picture seen, every tale heard from nurse
or mother, all taught the same lesson. And as a man traveled
through the world his faith would grow the firmer, for go where he
would there were the endless shrines of the saints, each with its
holy relic in the center, and around it the tradition of incessant
miracles, with stacks of deserted crutches and silver votive
hearts to prove them. At every turn he was made to feel how thin
was the veil, and how easily rent, which screened him from the
awful denizens of the unseen world.

Hence the wild announcement of the frightened monk seemed terrible
rather than incredible to those whom he addressed. The Abbot's
ruddy face paled for a moment, it is true, but he plucked the
crucifix from his desk and rose valiantly to his feet.

"Lead me to him!" said he. "Show me the foul fiend who dares to
lay his grip upon brethren of the holy house of Saint Bernard!
Run down to my chaplain, brother! Bid him bring the exorcist with
him, and also the blessed box of relics, and the bones of Saint
James from under the altar! With these and a contrite and humble
heart we may show front to all the powers of darkness."