knelt and grasped his breviary, 'but he was vanquished easily.'

'Easily?' exclaimed the holy man, gasping satisfaction: 'thou weakling!
is it for thee to measure difficulties, or estimate powers? Easily? thou
worldling! and so are great deeds judged when the danger's past! And what
am I but the humble instrument that brought about this wondrous conquest!
the poor tool of this astounding triumph! Shall the sword say, This is
the battle I won! Yonder the enemy I overthrow! Bow to me, ye lords of
earth, and worshippers of mighty acts? Not so! Nay, but the sword is
honoured in the hero's grasp, and if it break not, it is accounted
trusty. This, then, this little I may claim, that I was trusty! Trusty in
a heroic encounter! Trusty in a battle with earth's terror! Oh! but this
must not be said. This is to think too much! This is to be more than
aught yet achieved by man!'

The holy warrior crossed his arms, and gently bowed his head.

'Take me to the Sisters,' he said. 'The spirit has gone out of me! I am
faint, and as a child!'

Farina asked, and had, his blessing.

'And with it my thanks!' said the Monk. 'Thou hast witnessed how he can
be overcome! Thou hast looked upon a scene that will be the glory of
Christendom! Thou hast beheld the discomfiture of Darkness before the
voice of Light! Yet think not much of me: account me little in this
matter! I am but an instrument! but an instrument!--and again, but an
instrument!'

Farina drew the arms of the holy combatant across his shoulders and