IV

Then a great loneliness came over him; the hours of his life seemed

endless, and there was no one in whom he could find comfort. The prior

had given him a ray of hope, but he was gone, and now Jasper was alone

in the world.... And beyond? Oh! how could one be certain? It was awful

this perpetual doubt, recurring more strongly than ever. Men had

believed so long. Think of all the beautiful churches that had been made

in the honour of God, and the pictures. Think of the works that had

been done for his love, the martyrs who had cheerfully given up their

lives. It seemed impossible that it should be all for nothing. But--but

Jasper could not believe. And he cried out to the soul of the prior,

resting in heaven, to come to him and help him. Surely, if he really

were alive again, he would not let the poor monk whom he had loved

linger in this terrible uncertainty. Jasper redoubled his prayers; for

hours he remained on his knees, imploring God to send him light.... But

no light came, and exhausted Brother Jasper sank into despair.

The new prior was a tall, gaunt man, with a great hooked nose and heavy

lips; his keen, dark eyes shone fiercely from beneath his shaggy brows.

He was still young, full of passionate energy. And with large gesture

and loud, metallic voice he loved to speak of hell-fire and the pains of

the damned, hating the Jews and heretics with a bitter personal hatred.

'To the stake!' he used to say. 'The earth must be purged of this

vermin, and it must be purged by fire.'

He exacted the most absolute obedience from the monks, and pitiless was

the punishment for any infringement of his rules.... Brother Jasper

feared the man with an almost unearthly terror; when he felt resting

upon him the piercing black eyes, he trembled in his seat, and a cold

sweat broke out over him. If the prior knew--the thought almost made him

faint. And yet the fear of it seemed to drag him on; like a bird before

a serpent, he was fascinated. Sometimes he felt sudden impulses to tell

him--but the vengeful eyes terrified him.

One day he was in the cloister, looking out at the little green plot in

the middle where the monks were buried, wondering confusedly whether all

that prayer and effort had been offered up to empty images of what--of

the fear of Man? Turning round, he started back and his heart beat, for

the prior was standing close by, looking at him with those horrible

eyes. Brother Jasper trembled so that he could scarcely stand; he looked

down.

'Brother Jasper!' The prior's voice seemed sterner than it had ever been

before. 'Brother Jasper!'

'Father!'

'What have you to tell me?'

Jasper looked up at him; the blood fled from his lips.

'Nothing, my father!' The prior looked at him firmly, and Jasper thought

he read the inmost secrets of his heart.

'Speak, Brother Jasper!' said the prior, and his voice was loud and

menacing.

Then hurriedly, stuttering in his anxiety, the monk confessed his

misery.... A horror came over the prior's face as he listened, and

Jasper became so terrified that he could hardly speak; but the prior

seemed to recover himself, and interrupted him with a furious burst of

anger.

'You look over the plain and do not see God, and for that you doubt Him?

Miserable fool!'

'Oh, father, have mercy on me! I have tried so hard. I want to believe.

But I cannot.'

'I cannot! I cannot! What is that? Have men believed for a thousand

years--has God performed miracle after miracle--and a miserable monk

dares to deny Him?'

'I cannot believe!'

'You must!' His voice was so loud that it rang through the cloisters. He

seized Jasper's clasped hands, raised in supplication before him, and

forced him to his knees. 'I tell you, you shall believe!'

Quivering with wrath, he looked at the prostrate form at his feet, moved

by convulsive weeping. He raised his hand as if to strike the monk, but

with difficulty contained himself.

Then the prior bade Brother Jasper go to the church and wait. The monks

were gathered together, all astonished. They stood in their usual

places, but Jasper remained in the middle, away from them, with head

cast down. The prior called out to them in his loud, clear voice,--

'Pray, my brethren, pray for the soul of Brother Jasper, which lies in

peril of eternal death.'

The monks looked at him suddenly, and Brother Jasper's head sank lower,

so that no one could see his face. The prior sank to his knees and

prayed with savage fervour. Afterwards the monks went their ways; but

when Jasper passed them they looked down, and when by chance he

addressed a novice, the youth hurried from him without answering. They

looked upon him as accursed. The prior spoke no more, but often Jasper

felt his stern gaze resting on him, and a shiver would pass through

him. In the services Jasper stood apart from the rest, like an unclean

thing; he did not join in their prayers, listening confusedly to their

monotonous droning; and when a pause came and he felt all eyes turn to

him, he put his hands to his face to hide himself.

'Pray, my brethren, pray for the soul of Brother Jasper, which lies in

peril of eternal death.'

V

In his cell the monk would for days sit apathetically looking at the

stone wall in front of him, sore of heart; the hours would pass by

unnoticed, and only the ringing of the chapel bell awoke him from his

stupor. And sometimes he would be seized with sudden passion and,

throwing himself on his knees, pour forth a stream of eager, vehement

prayer. He remembered the penances which the seraphic father imposed on

his flesh--but he always had faith; and Jasper would scourge himself

till he felt sick and faint, and, hoping to gain his soul by

mortification of the body, refuse the bread and water which was thrust

into his cell, and for a long while eat nothing. He became so weak and

ill that he could hardly stand; and still no help came.

Then he took it into his head that God would pity him and send a miracle

to drive away his uncertainty. Was he not anxious to believe, if only he

could?--so anxious! God would not send a miracle to a poor monk.... Yet

miracles had been performed for smaller folk than he--for shepherds and

tenders of swine. But Christ himself had said that miracles only came by

faith, but--Jasper remembered that often the profligate and the harlot

had been brought to repentance by a vision. Even the Holy Francis had

been but a loose gallant till Christ appeared to him. Yet, if Christ had

appeared, it showed--ah! but how could one be sure? it might only have

been a dream. Let a vision appear to him and he would believe. Oh, how

enchanted he would be to believe, to rest in peace, to know that before

him, however hard the life, were eternal joy and the kingdom of heaven.

But Brother Jasper put his hands to his head cruelly aching. He could

not understand, he could not know--the doubt weighed on his brain like

a sheet of lead; he felt inclined to tear his skull apart to relieve the

insupportable pressure. How endless life was! Why could it not finish

quickly and let him know? But supposing there really was a God, He would

exact terrible vengeance. What punishment would He inflict on the monk

who had denied Him--who had betrayed Him like a second Judas? Then a

fantastic idea came into his crazy brain. Was it Satan that put all

these doubts into his head? If it were, Satan must exist; and if he did,

God existed too. He knew that the devil stood ready to appear to all who

called. If Christ would not appear, let Satan show himself. It meant

hell-fire; but if God were, the monk felt he was damned already--for the

truth he would give his soul!

The idea sent a coldness through him, so that he shivered; but it

possessed him, and he exulted, thinking that he would know at last. He

rose from his bed--it was the dead of night and all the monks were

sleeping--and, trembling with cold, began to draw with chalk strange

figures on the floor. He had seen them long ago in an old book of magic,

and their fantastic shapes, fascinating him, had remained in his

memory.

In the centre of the strange confusion of triangles he stood and uttered

in a husky voice the invocation. He murmured uncouth words in an unknown

language, and bade Satan stand forth.... He expected a thunderclap, the

flashing of lightning, sulphurous fumes--but the night remained silent

and quiet; not a sound broke the stillness of the monastery; the snow

outside fell steadily.