"'Listen,' he said. 'When a boy I dedicated myself to God. Early, early I dedicated myself, so that I might never know sin. For I had heard that the charm of sin is so great and so terrible that, once it is known, once it is felt, it can never be forgotten. And so it can make the holiest life hideous with its memories. It can intrude into the very sanctuary like a ghost, and murmur its music with the midnight mass. Even at the elevation of the Host will it be present, and stir the heart of the officiator to longing so keen that it is like the Agony of the Garden, the Agony of Christ. There are monks here who weep because they dare not sin, who rage secretly like beasts--because they will not sin.' "He paused. The grey light grew over the mountains. "'Knowing this, I resolved that I would never know sin, lest I, too, should suffer so horribly. I threw myself at once into the arms of God. Yet I have suffered--how I have suffered!' "His face was contorted, and his lips worked. I stood as if under a spell, my eyes upon his face. I had only the desire to hear him. He went on, speaking now in a voice roughened by emotion: "'For I became like these monks. You'--and he pointed at me with outstretched fingers--'you, my wraith, made in my very likeness, were surely born when I was born, to torment me. For, while I have prayed, I have been conscious of your neglect of prayer as if it were my own. When I have believed, I have been conscious of your unbelief as if it were my own. Whatever I have feebly tried to do for God, has been marred and defaced by all that you have left undone. I have wrestled with you; I have tried to hold you back; I have tried to lead you with me where I want to go, where I must go. All these years I have tried, all these years I have striven. But it has seemed as if God did not choose it. When you have been sinning, I have been agonising. I have lain upon the floor of my cell in the night, and I have torn at my evil heart. For--sometimes--I have longed--how I have longed!--to sin your sin.' "He crossed himself. Sudden tears sprang into his eyes. "'I have called you my demon,' he cried. 'But you are my cross. Oh, brother, will you not be my crown?' "His eyes, shadowed with tears, gazed down into mine. Bernard, in that moment, I understood all--my depression, my unreasoning despair, the fancied hatred of others, even my few good impulses, all came from him, from this living holy wraith of my evil self. "'Will you not be my crown?' he said. "Bernard, there, in the snow, I fell at his feet. I confessed to him. I received his absolution. "And, as the light of the dawn grew strong upon the mountains, he, my other self, my wraith, blessed me." * * * * * There was a long silence between us. Then I said:-- "And now?" "And now you know why I have changed. That day, as I went down into the land of the sunshine, I made a vow." "A vow?"