'But I am entitled to my freedom!'
'And is the presence of such an one incompatible with your ideas of freedom? My son, you'll be on your knees calling for me within a week.'
'At least--at least wait until I call.'
'In that case, take care lest you call in vain. Remember five years ago. If you become again what you were then, it will be for ever, and ever, and ever! You'll be but a voice perpetually calling out of hell.'
'My father, I--I am stronger than I was then.'
'We will hope it. Though I seem to hear the devil laughing. Now, my son, go!'
'Bless me, my father, before I go.'
'Yes, I will bless you. But be careful, O my son, lest, as Aaron's rod was transformed into a serpent, by your own action my blessing becomes a curse.'
His lordship knelt. The Prior blessed him. Then his lordship went to bed, though the straw pallet on which he cast himself could hardly, on that occasion at any rate, be described as a bed of rest.