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.

VI

Next day the prior sent for him and repeated his solemn question.

'Brother Jasper, what have you to say to me?'

And absolutely despairing, Jasper answered,--

'Nothing, nothing, nothing!'

Then the prior strode up to him in wrath and smote him on the cheek.

'It is a devil within you--a devil of obstinacy and pride. You shall
believe!'

He cried to monks to lay hold of him; they dragged him roughly to the
cloisters, and stripping him of his cowl tied it round his waist, and
bound him by the hands to a pillar.... And the prior ordered them to
give Jasper eight-and-thirty strokes with the scourge--one less than
Christ--that the devil might be driven out. The scourge was heavy and
knotted, and the porter bared his arms that he might strike the better;
the monks stood round in eager expectation. The scourge whizzed through
the air and came down with a thud on Jasper's bare shoulders; a tremor
passed through him, but he did not speak. Again it came down, and as the
porter raised it for the third time the monks saw great bleeding weals
on Brother J