After inquiring as to her ailments, and expressing his satisfaction that she felt somewhat better, Saint Cuthman said, “Are you still fasting, sister? I know you are wont only to break bread and drink water after the hour of vespers.”
“Since yestere’en, nothing has passed my lips, holy father,” the recluse replied.
“It is well,” said the Saint. “The prohibition I am about to lay upon you—painful to any other, unaccustomed to severe mortification of the flesh—will by you be scarcely accounted a penance. I enjoin you to refrain from all refreshment of the body, whether by food or rest, until to-morrow morning. Think you, you can promise compliance with the order?”
“Do I think it, holy father?” Sister Ursula cried. “If Heaven will spare me so long, I am sure of it. I was in hopes,” she added, almost with a look of disappointment, “that you were about to enjoin me some severe discipline, such as my sinfulness merits, and I pray you to add sharp flagellations, or other wholesome correction of the flesh, to your mandate.”
“Nay,” rejoined the Saint, smiling at the recluse’s zeal; “the scourge is unneeded. You have no heavy offence, I am well assured, on your conscience. But keep strict vigil throughout the night, and suffer not sleep to weigh down your eyelids for a moment, or you may be exposed to temptation and danger. The Arch-Fiend himself will be abroad.”
“I will spend the livelong night in prayer,” said Sister Ursula, trembling.
“Fear nothing,” returned the Saint; “the Prince of Darkness has other business on hand, and will not trouble you. He will be engaged in a terrible work, but, with Heaven’s aid, good sister, yours shall be the hand to confound him.”
“Mine!” exclaimed the recluse, seeking by her looks for an explanation from the holy man.
“When the sun hath gone down,” rejoined Saint Cuthman, “which will be about the seventh hour, turn this hour-glass, and let the sand run out six times—six times, do you mark, good sister? That will bring you to the first hour after midnight. Kneel then before yon crucifix and pray fervently, that the dark designs of him who took our Saviour to the top of the high mountain, and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment, may be defeated. Next, light this taper, which I will presently consecrate; set it within the bars of that little grated window looking towards the east, and pray that its glimmer may be as the first grey light of dawn. Again, I say, do you mark me, sister?”
“Not a word uttered by you, holy father, but hath sunk deep in my breast,” she replied. “Your instructions shall be scrupulously obeyed.”
“Nothing evil shall cross this threshold during the night,” pursued the Saint. “I will guard it as, in the days of my youth, I guarded my father’s flocks on the hills. Light not your lamp but only the taper, as I have bidden you; and stir not forth on any threat or summons, for such will only be a snare to injure you; and let not your heart quail because of the frightful sounds you may hear. Though the earth should quake beneath your feet, and this solid hill tremble to its foundations, yet shall not a stone of your cell be removed, neither shall any harm befall you.”
The Saint then took up the taper, and blessed it in these terms: “Domine Jesu Christi, fili Dei vivi, benedic candelam istam supplicationibus nostris: infunde ei, Domine, per virtutem sanctœ crucis benedictionem cœlestem; ut quibuscumque locis accensa, sive posita fuerit, discedant principes tenebrarum, et contremiscant, et fugiunt pavidi cum omnibus ministris suis ab habitationibus illis; nec prœsumant amplius inquietare, aut molestare servientes tibi omnipotenti Deo.”
After going through certain other ceremonials, which it is needless to describe, the Saint sat down, and addressing Sister Ursula, declared his readiness to shrive her.
The recluse then knelt down before him, and inclining her head so as to conceal her features, said she had one secret within her breast which she had never revealed to her confessor—one sin upon her soul, of which she had never been able to repent.