After his death, too, the old king remains a mystery.  Had he expiated his apostacy and his fall?  Was he, like his fathers, received into Abraham’s bosom?  And the greatest writers of the Church have not agreed about it.

According to St. Irenaeus, St. Hilary, St. Cyril of Jerusalem, St. Ambrose, and St. Jerome, his penance was accomplished, and he is saved.

According to Tertullian, St. Cyprian, St. Augustine, and St. Gregory the Great, he did not repent to amendment, and so he is damned.

Durtal turned over in his bed and tried to lose consciousness.  Everything was in confusion in his brain, and at last he fell into disturbed slumbers mingled with hideous nightmares, in which he saw Madame Mesurat standing in the place of the queen on a pedestal in the porch; and Durtal fumed at her ugliness, raging against the Canons, to whom he vainly appealed to remove his housekeeper and replace the queen.

CHAPTER XII.

This church symbolism, this psychology of the cathedral, this study of the soul of the sanctuary, so entirely overlooked since mediaeval times by those professors of monumental physiology called archaeologists and architects, so much interested Durtal that he was able by its help to forget for some hours the turmoil and struggles of his soul; but the moment he ceased to ponder on the inner sense of things seen, he was as bad as ever.

The sort of requisition he had laid before the Abbe Gevresin, to put an end to his tossing and decide for him one way or the other, was distracting while it terrified him.

The cloister!  He must reflect a long time before making up his mind to imprison himself.  And the pros and cons tormented him in endless alternation.

“Here I am just where I was before I set out for La Trappe!” said he to himself, “and the decision to be taken is even more serious; for Notre Dame de l’Atre was but a temporary refuge.  I knew when I went there that I should not stay; it was a painful time to be endured, but it was only a short time; whereas at this moment I have to come to a determination from which there is no turning back, to go to a place where, if I once shut myself in, I must stay till I die.  It is imprisonment for life, with no mitigation of the penalty, no pardon and release; and the Abbe talks as if it were the simplest thing!

“What am I to do?  Renounce all freedom, be nothing but a machine, a chattel, in the hands of a man I do not know—­God knows I am willing!  But there are other and more pressing questions from my point of view; in the first place, this matter of literature—­to write no more, to give up what has been the occupation and aim of my life; that would be painful; still, it is a sacrifice I could make.  But to write and then see my language stripped and washed in pump-water, all the colour taken out by another man, who may be a learned man or a saint,