As to the hermit-laborer--all respect for that priest, a worthy disciple of the young man of Nazareth! He is thirty years of age at the most. His face is pale, and it is at once mild and firm; his beard is blonde, his head is prematurely bald; his long brown robe, made of some coarse material, is here and there frayed by the brambles on the lands that his toil has cleared. The man's bearing is rustic, his hands are strong, the plow and the hoe-handle have made them horny. The bishop again fills another large cup to the Frank, saying: "Count--I repeat it--the twenty gold sous, the meadow lands and the little blonde female slave--either I must have them, or you get no absolution!" "Bishop! I shall fall upon your house with all my leudes and sack it; I shall roast you over a slow fire--and you will give me absolution--" "Impious man! Sacrilegious blasphemer! Pharaoh! Hog of profligacy! Reservoir of wine! How dare you hold such language to your bishop! And you a son of our apostolic Church!" "You shall give me absolution, will ye, nill ye!" "Oh! The beast! Is it that you are itching to fall into the very bottom of hell? Is it that you are itching to remain for centuries in succession broiling in pails full of burning pitch! You seem to be itching after a thorough trouncing with the forks of the devils! Devils with toads' heads, rams' horns, serpents for their tails, elephants' trunks for arms, and cloven hoofs--aye archcloven!" "Did you see them?" queried the Frank with a savage and yet frightened mien. "Did you, bishop? Did you see those demons?" "Whether I saw them! They brought before me in a cloud of bitumen and sulphur Duke Rauking, who, the sacrilegious wretch! struck Bishop Basile with his cane!" "And did the devils carry off Duke Rauking?" "They threw him into the bottomless pit! I counted them; there were thirteen of them; a large red devil, that was Lucifer, led them. Such a fate is in store for you, if I refuse you absolution." "Bishop, you may be saying all that only to frighten me out of my twenty gold sous, the fine meadow lands, and the pretty blonde slave!" The prelate rang a bell; one of his confidential servants stepped in; the holy man said to him a few words in Latin while with his eyes he indicated a spot on the mosaic floor. The servant went out again. The hermit-laborer thereupon addressed the bishop, also in Latin: "What you propose to do is an unworthy trick! It is a sacrilegious fraud!" "Hermit, is not everything allowed to the clergy of our holy Church in order to terrify these brutes of Franks into subjection?" "Fraud never is allowed--" Cautin shrugged his shoulders, and addressing the count in the Frankish tongue--the prelate spoke the language like any of the barbarians--he said: "Are you a Christian and a Catholic? Did you receive holy baptism?"