What sort of post and what sort of an age they were, from which those old monks fled, we shall see, perhaps, before this tale is told out.
'Thou art late, son,' said the abbot, steadfastly working away at his palm-basket, as Philammon approached.
'Fuel is scarce, and I was forced to go far.' 'A monk should not answer till he is questioned.

I did not ask the reason.

Where didst thou find that wood ?' 'Before the temple, far up the glen.' 'The temple! What didst thou see there ?' No answer.

Pambo looked up with his keen black eye.
'Thou hast entered it, and lusted after its abominations.' 'I--I did not enter; but I looked--' 'And what didst thou see?
Women ?' Philammon was silent.
'Have I not bidden you never to look on the face of women?
Are they not the firstfruits of the devil, the authors of all evil, the subtlest of all Satan's snares?
Are they not accursed for ever, for the deceit of their first mother, by whom sin entered into the world?
A woman first opened the gates of hell; and, until this day, they are the portresses thereof.

Unhappy boy! What hast thou done ?' 'They were but painted on the walls.' 'Ah!' said the abbot, as if suddenly relieved from a heavy burden.