yet how many women who have
loved you no better have denied you what you received from me! You still
owe me some gratitude. Farewell.'

"For two days I was plunged in alternate fury and apathy! Then
remembering the salvation of my soul, I hurried to you, my father. Here
I am. Purify me, uplift me, strengthen my heart, for I love her still."

I ceased. M. Safrac, his hand raised to his forehead, remained lost in
thought. He was the first to break the silence.

"My son, this confirms my great discovery. What you tell me will
confound the vainglory of our modern sceptics. Listen to me. We live
today in the midst of miracles as did the first-born of men. Listen,
listen! Adam, as I have already told you, had a first wife whom the
Bible does not make mention of, but of whom the Talmud speaks. Her name
was Lilith. Created, not out of one of his ribs, but from this same red
earth out of which he himself had been kneaded, she was not flesh of
his flesh. She voluntarily separated from him. He was still living in
innocence when she left him to go to those regions where long years
afterwards the Persians settled, but which at this time were inhabited
by the pre-Adamites, more intelligent and more beautiful than the sons
of men. She therefore had no part in the transgression of our first
father, and was unsullied by that original sin. Because of this she also
escaped from the curse pronounced against Eve and her descendants. She
is exempt from sorrow and death; having no soul to be saved, she is
incapable of virtue or vice. Whatever she does, she accomplishes neither
good nor evil. The daughters that were born to her of some mysterious
wedlock are immortal as she is, and free as she is both in their deeds
and thoughts, seeing that they can neither gain nor lose in the sight
of God. Now, my son, I recognise by indisputable signs that the creature
who caused your downfall, this Leila, was a daughter of Lilith. Compose
yourself to prayer. To-morrow I will hear you in confession."

He remained silent for a moment, then drawing a paper out of his pocket,
he continued:

"Late last night, after having wished you good night, the postman, who
had been delayed by the snow, brought me a very distressing letter. The
senior vicaire informs me that my book has been a source of grief to
Monseigneur, and has already overshadowed the spiritual joy with which
he looked forward to the festival of our Lady of Mount Carmel. The work,
he adds, is fu