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But
the
moment
had
now
arrived
when
earth
and
all
his
treasures
were
gliding
from
before
his
eyes
,
and
when
the
savage
Baron
's
heart
,
though
hard
as
a
nether
millstone
,
became
appalled
as
he
gazed
forward
into
the
waste
darkness
of
futurity
.
The
fever
of
his
body
aided
the
impatience
and
agony
of
his
mind
,
and
his
death-bed
exhibited
a
mixture
of
the
newly
awakened
feelings
of
horror
,
combating
with
the
fixed
and
inveterate
obstinacy
of
his
disposition
;
--
a
fearful
state
of
mind
,
only
to
be
equalled
in
those
tremendous
regions
,
where
there
are
complaints
without
hope
,
remorse
without
repentance
,
a
dreadful
sense
of
present
agony
,
and
a
presentiment
that
it
can
not
cease
or
be
diminished
!
"
Where
be
these
dog-priests
now
,
"
growled
the
Baron
,
"
who
set
such
price
on
their
ghostly
mummery
?
--
where
be
all
those
unshod
Carmelites
,
for
whom
old
Front-de-Boeuf
founded
the
convent
of
St
Anne
,
robbing
his
heir
of
many
a
fair
rood
of
meadow
,
and
many
a
fat
field
and
close
--
where
be
the
greedy
hounds
now
?
--
Swilling
,
I
warrant
me
,
at
the
ale
,
or
playing
their
juggling
tricks
at
the
bedside
of
some
miserly
churl
.
--
Me
,
the
heir
of
their
founder
--
me
,
whom
their
foundation
binds
them
to
pray
for
--
me
--
ungrateful
villains
as
they
are
!
--
they
suffer
to
die
like
the
houseless
dog
on
yonder
common
,
unshriven
and
unhouseled
!
--
Tell
the
Templar
to
come
hither
--
he
is
a
priest
,
and
may
do
something
--
But
no
!
--
as
well
confess
myself
to
the
devil
as
to
Brian
de
Bois-Guilbert
,
who
recks
neither
of
heaven
nor
of
hell
.
--
I
have
heard
old
men
talk
of
prayer
--
prayer
by
their
own
voice
--
Such
need
not
to
court
or
to
bribe
the
false
priest
--
But
I
--
I
dare
not
!
"
"
Lives
Reginald
Front-de-Boeuf
,
"
said
a
broken
and
shrill
voice
close
by
his
bedside
,
"
to
say
there
is
that
which
he
dares
not
!
"
The
evil
conscience
and
the
shaken
nerves
of
Front-de-Boeuf
heard
,
in
this
strange
interruption
to
his
soliloquy
,
the
voice
of
one
of
those
demons
,
who
,
as
the
superstition
of
the
times
believed
,
beset
the
beds
of
dying
men
to
distract
their
thoughts
,
and
turn
them
from
the
meditations
which
concerned
their
eternal
welfare
.
He
shuddered
and
drew
himself
together
;
but
,
instantly
summoning
up
his
wonted
resolution
,
he
exclaimed
,
"
Who
is
there
?
--
what
art
thou
,
that
darest
to
echo
my
words
in
a
tone
like
that
of
the
night-raven
?
--
Come
before
my
couch
that
I
may
see
thee
.
"
"
I
am
thine
evil
angel
,
Reginald
Front-de-Boeuf
,
"
replied
the
voice
.
"
Let
me
behold
thee
then
in
thy
bodily
shape
,
if
thou
be
's
t
indeed
a
fiend
,
"
replied
the
dying
knight
;
"
think
not
that
I
will
blench
from
thee
.
--
By
the
eternal
dungeon
,
could
I
but
grapple
with
these
horrors
that
hover
round
me
,
as
I
have
done
with
mortal
dangers
,
heaven
or
hell
should
never
say
that
I
shrunk
from
the
conflict
!
"
"
Think
on
thy
sins
,
Reginald
Front-de-Boeuf
,
"
said
the
almost
unearthly
voice
,
"
on
rebellion
,
on
rapine
,
on
murder
!
--
Who
stirred
up
the
licentious
John
to
war
against
his
grey-headed
father
--
against
his
generous
brother
?
"
