ging over his face, and pressed
his head, already going bald in front, to the cold damp strip of drugget
on the draughty floor. He read the psalm old Father Pimon had told him
warded off temptation. He easily raised his light and emaciated body
on his strong sinewy legs and tried to continue saying his prayers, but
instead of doing so he involuntarily strained his hearing. He wished
to hear more. All was quiet. From the corner of the roof regular drops
continued to fall into the tub below. Outside was a mist and fog eating
into the snow that lay on the ground. It was still, very still. And
suddenly there was a rustling at the window and a voice--that
same tender, timid voice, which could only belong to an attractive
woman--said:

'Let me in, for Christ's sake!'

It seemed as though his blood had all rushed to his heart and settled
there. He could hardly breathe. 'Let God arise and let his enemies be
scattered...'

'But I am not a devil!' It was obvious that the lips that uttered this
were smiling. 'I am not a devil, but only a sinful woman who has lost
her way, not figuratively but literally!' She laughed. 'I am frozen and
beg for shelter.'

He pressed his face to the window, but the little icon-lamp was
reflected by it and shone on the whole pane. He put his hands to both
sides of his face and peered between them. Fog, mist, a tree, and--just
opposite him--she herself. Yes, there, a few inches from him, was the
sweet, kindly frightened face of a woman in a cap and a coat of long
white fur, leaning towards him. Their eyes met with instant recognition:
not that they had ever known one another, they had never met before,
but by the look they exchanged they--and he particularly--felt that they
knew and understood one another. After that glance to imagine her to be
a devil and not a simple, kindly, sweet, timid woman, was impossible.

'Who are you? Why have you come?' he asked.

'Do please open the door!' she replied, with capricious authority. 'I am
frozen. I tell you I have lost my way.'

'But I am a monk--a hermit.'

'Oh, do please open the door--or do you wish me to freeze under your
window while you say your prayers?'

'But how have you...'

'I shan't eat you. For God's sake let me in! I am quite frozen.'

She really did feel afraid, and said this in an almost tearful voice.

He stepped back from the window and looked at an icon of the Saviour
in His crown of thorns. 'Lord, help me! Lord, help me!' he ex