The violence of Tebsima's fall, the loss of his horse, that, to an Arab, is as the loss of a brother, and the chill winds of Burgundy, wrought mortal harm in the young Arab. Then came a yet greater disaster. It was on the great day of the veneration of the Sainte Larme. A young page, nobly dressed in black, came at evening to the castle chapel, and knelt in prayer before the relic. A moment later the page and the relic had gone. Tebsima, who first noticed the theft, rode headlong in pursuit. Seeing the black rider in front of him, he summoned him, by the blood of Christ, to halt; and, behold, the mule, despite its rider's efforts, stood immovable, as though changed to stone. Tebsima drew near to the thief, demanded the return of the relic. "Since I cannot keep it," said the page, "let it be lost for ever to the Chapel of Marigny." He hurled the chalice down the face of the rock, and, drawing his sword, attacked the Emir, who, while avoiding the blow, plunged his scimitar into the mule's body. The animal bounded into the air; and man and beast rolled headlong over the brink of the abyss, and were dashed to pieces on the stones below. Weeping bitterly, Tebsima descended to seek the fragments of the cup. He found them lying in a dozen pieces, where a little stream bubbles from the rock. That stream is called to this day the Fontaine de Sainte Larme; and still its limpid waters seem to weep the sacrilege its name commemorates.[139] The holy relic had vanished for ever. So, with the precious object that had served always to remind Tebsima of the miracle of his conversion, all hope in this life departed from the stricken Emir. Feeling himself to be dying, he left the Castle of Marigny, and withdrew to the pleasant grotto that by chance he had discovered, near by, in the side of the hill. There he lived the life of a hermit, giving his mind wholly to devotion and earnest prayer--which was granted--for conversion to the Faith of Christ of his relatives in the East. There he was visited frequently by the lord and lady of Marigny, who brought him food, and oil for his lamp. He had another friend, to whom he told all his story--the good Albéric, the infirmier at the neighbouring monastery of Labussière. Into that grotto of Marigny there entered, one stormy night, a group of monks. One of them bore the cross of the monastery; another, Brother Albéric, carried a robe and a scapular. Two novices, torch in hand, preceded the Abbot, who carried the oil and the holy mysteries. Then they clothed Tebsima in the robes of the order, and consecrated him to the service of the church.[140] And so, while a great wind howled through the hollows of the wooded hills, peacefully, with folded hands, and lips pressed upon the cross of olive, the new monk passed to the joys of the new life.