Three times the Abbot rose, three times his voice failed him--at last he spoke.
"Seeing that the holy rule of Saint Benedict strictly forbids any follower of his to lay violent hands upon himself, in that he is no longer his own but belongs to the holy Church, and, as such, may not injure himself any more than any sacred vessel, garment, altar, temple or whatever else is the Church's property--
"Seeing that you, unhappy child, have been instructed and indoctrinated in that holy rule and have wittingly sinned against it out of your own pride of judgment as to what is best, and have thus rendered yourself unfit to do the Church that service for which God had especially chosen you--
"Seeing that by the commission of this deed, you have rebelled against the will of your spiritual and temporal superiors and so are guilty of the gravest disobedience--
"We declare and pronounce that, as a terrible example to the votaries of all Orders and at all times you--" here again his voice failed and he had to draw a long breath, "that you shall be imprisoned to all perpetuity in the Convent dungeon."
Donatus bowed his head in silence--the Abbot sank back in his chair and clasped his hands over his face which was bathed in tears. One single inarticulate sob broke from all the conclave; only Correntian stood unmoved and his eyes were fixed upon the prisoner. A long silence followed; over their heads stared the fixed stony face of Duty--that pitiless divinity--suppressing every outward expression of the sorrow that filled their shrinking hearts.
At last the Abbot rose and turning to Correntian with an awful and reproachful look,
"You, Correntian," he said, "may fill the office of executioner and lead him away--for not one of us could bear it."
And, just as he had long ago snatched him from his nurse's arms, ruthlessly and without delay Correntian grasped the blind man's arm--to tear him from the last hearth of humanity that was open to him--from the midst of the brotherhood. Donatus obediently turned to follow him.
"Forgive us!" cried the sobbing group of monks, "We only do our duty."