“I see,” he murmured, “three demons, who, full of joy, prepare to seize that man.  One of them is like unto a tower, one to a woman, and one to a mage.  All three bear their name, marked with red-hot iron; the first on the forehead, the second on the belly, the third on the breast, and those names are—­Pride, Lust, and Doubt.  I have finished.”

Having spoken thus, Paul, with haggard eyes and hanging jaw, returned to his old simple ways.

And, as the monks of Antinoe looked anxiously at Anthony, the saint pronounced these words—­

“God has made known His just judgment.  Let us bow to Him and hold our peace.”

He passed.  He bestowed blessings as he went.  The sun, now descended to the horizon, enveloped him in its glory, and his shadow, immeasurably elongated by a miracle from heaven, unrolled itself behind him like an endless carpet, as a sign of the long remembrance this great saint would leave amongst men.

Upright, but thunderstruck, Paphnutius saw and heard nothing more.  One word alone rang in his ears, “Thais is dying!” The thought had never occurred to him.  Twenty years had he contemplated a mummy’s head, and yet the idea that death would close the eyes of Thais astonished him hopelessly.

“Thais is dying!” An incomprehensible saying!  “Thais is dying!” In those three words what a new and terrible sense!  “Thais is dying!” Then why the sun, the flowers, the brooks, and all creation?  “Thais is dying!” What good was all the universe?  Suddenly he sprang forward.  “To see her again, to see her once more!” He began to run.  He knew not where he was, or whither he went, but instinct conducted him with unerring certainty; he went straight to the Nile.  A swarm of sails covered the upper waters of the river.  He sprang on board a barque manned by Nubians, and lying in the forepart of the boat, his eyes devouring space, he cried, in grief and rage—­

“Fool, fool, that I was, not to have possessed Thais whilst there was yet time!  Fool to have believed that there was anything else in the world but her!  Oh, madness!  I dreamed of God, of the salvation of my soul, of life eternal—­as if all that counted for anything when I had seen Thais!  Why did I not feel that blessed eternity was in a single kiss of that woman, and that without her life was senseless, and no more than an evil dream?  Oh, stupid fool! thou hast seen her, and thou hast desired the good things of the other world!  Oh, coward! thou hast seen her, and thou hast feared God!  God! heaven! what are they?  And what have they to offer thee which are worth the least tittle of that which she would have given thee?  Oh, miserable, senseless fool, who sought divine goodness elsewhere than on the lips of Thais!  What hand was upon thy eyes?  Cursed be he who blinded thee then!  Thou couldst have bought, at the price of thy damnation, one moment of her love, and thou hast not done it!  She opened to thee her arms—­flesh mingled with the