Chapter 7 - Page 2

we will have thee to thy cell."

"Water! water! not wine," muttered the exhausted Sacristan.

"Nay," said the monk, "if that be thy complaint, wine may perhaps
cure thee;" and he reached him a cup, which the patient drank off to his
great benefit.

"And now," said the Abbot, "let his garments be changed, or rather let
him be carried to the infirmary; for it will prejudice our health,
should we hear his narrative while he stands there, steaming like a
rising hoar-frost."

"I will hear his adventure," said Eustace, "and report it to your
reverence." And, accordingly, he attended the Sacristan to his cell. In
about half an hour he returned to the Abbot.

"How is it with Father Philip?" said the Abbot; "and through what
came he into such a state?"

"He comes from Glendearg, reverend sir," said Eustace; "and for the
rest, he telleth such a legend, as has not been heard in this
Monastery for many a long day." He then gave the Abbot the outlines of
the Sacristan's adventures in the homeward journey, and added, that
for some time he was inclined to think his brain was infirm, seeing he
had sung, laughed, and wept all in the same breath.

"A wonderful thing it is to us," said the Abbot, "that Satan has been
permitted to put forth his hand thus far on one of our sacred brethren!"

"True," said Father Eustace; "but for every text there is a
paraphrase; and I have my suspicions, that if the drenching of Father
Philip cometh of the Evil one, yet it may not have been altogether
without his own personal fault."

"How!" said the Father Abbot; "I will not believe that thou makest
doubt that Satan, in former days, hath been permitted to afflict
saints and holy men, even as he afflicted the pious Job?"

"God forbid I should make question of it," said the monk, crossing
himself; "yet, where there is an exposition of the Sacristan's tale,
which is less than miraculous, I hold it safe to consider it at least,
if not to abide by it. Now, this Hob the Miller hath a buxom daughter.
Suppose--I say only suppose--that our Sacristan met her at the ford on
her return from her uncle's on the other side, for there she hath this
evening been--suppose, that, in courtesy, and to save her stripping
hose and shoon, the Sacristan brought her across behind him-suppose he
carried his familiarities farther than the maiden was willing to
admit; and we may easily suppose, farther, that this wetting was the
result of it."

"And this legend invented to deceive us!" said the Superior, reddening
with