Verily, it was an evil and malignant demon which controlled him, for the words but struck a pagan madness to his heart, and he sprang from his couch.
"Hush! Hush your priestly lies, which sink a new terror in my soul. It can not, can not be, this other world where men receive the reward or punishment drawn upon themselves in this. Thou liest, thou canting monk-faced coward; it is all a lie of priestcraft.
"There is no God, no Hell; no, I will not, will not believe it. Get thee hence before I drive thee to the gibbet and fling thy quarters to hawk and hound."
We crossed ourselves in horror, kissing the piece of the true cross, fearing his presence and terrible blasphemy would draw a bolt from Heaven. But there he stood, for some divine purpose secure in his body from the vengeance of God.
So fierce a fire consumed his strength he sank again in mortal weakness on his couch.
We watched him long. He gazed as one fixed by an evil eye, through the open window straight toward an ancient well across the court-yard.
He mumbled words whereof we could only guess the import. He raised a long, thin finger, knotted at the joints, and pointed to the well:
"Do you hear it? Oh, mother, mother, it was your doing! Listen now. Dost hear their cries in Hell? See, see, the body turns and swings, softly, softly," and he covered his face, uttering the most plaintive cries.
He started up again and went to the window, stretching out his arm as before. We could see nothing but the court and old well, long dry of water.
"See, there she is; see, see; I come, I come."