asper's back. Then, as the scourge fell heavily, a terrible
groan burst from him. The porter swung his arm, and this time a shriek
broke from the wretched monk; the blows came pitilessly and Jasper lost
all courage. He shrieked with agony, imploring them to stop.

But ferociously the prior cried,--

'Did Christ bear in silence forty stripes save one, and do you cry out
like a woman before you have had ten!'

The porter went on, and the prior's words were interrupted by piercing
shrieks.

'It is the devil crying out within him,' said the monks, gloating on the
bleeding back and the face of agony.

Heavy drops of sweat ran off the porter's face and his arm began to
tire; but he seized the handle with both hands and swung the knotted
ropes with all his strength.

Jasper fainted.

'See!' said the prior. 'See the fate of him who has not faith in God!'

The cords with which he was tied prevented the monk from falling, and
stroke after stroke fell on his back till the number was completed. Then
they loosed him from the column, and he sank senseless and bleeding to
the ground. They left him. Brother Jasper regained slowly his senses,
lying out in the cold cloister with the snow on the graves in the
middle; his hands and feet were stiff and blue. He shivered and drew
himself together for warmth, then a groan burst from him, feeling the
wounds of his back. Painfully he lifted himself up and crawled to the
chapel door; he pushed it open, and, staggering forward, fell on his
face, looking towards the altar. He remained there long, dazed and
weary, pulling his cowl close round him to keep out the bitter cold.
The pain of his body almost relieved the pain of his mind; he wished
dumbly that he could lie there and die, and be finished with it all. He
did not know the time; he wondered whether any service would soon bring
the monks to disturb him. He took sad pleasure in the solitude, and in
the great church the solitude seemed more intense. Oh, and he hated the
monks! it was cruel, cruel, cruel! He put his hands to his face and
sobbed bitterly.

But suddenly a warmth fell on him; he looked up, and the glow seemed to
come from the crucified Christ in the great painted window by the altar.
The monk started up with a cry and looked eagerly; the bell began to
ring. The green colour of death was becoming richer, the glass gained
the fulness of real flesh; now it was a soft round whiteness. And
Brother Jasper cried out in ecstasy,