“I wish to close the door myself,” said Paphnutius, “and put thereon a seal, which Jesus will come and break with His own hands.”

He went to the side of the spring, and took a handful of wet clay, mixed with it a little spittle and a hair from his head, and plastered it across the chink of the door.  Then, approaching the window, near which Thais stood peaceful and happy, he fell on his knees and praised the Lord three times.

“How beautiful are the feet of her who walketh in the paths of righteousness!  How beautiful are her feet, and how resplendent her face!”

He rose, lowered his hood over his eyes, and walked away slowly.

Albina called one of her virgins.

“My daughter,” she said, “take to Thais those things which are needful for her—­bread, water, and a flute with three holes.”

PART THE THIRD —­ THE EUPHORBIA

Paphnutius had returned to the holy desert.  He took, near Athribis, the boat which went up the Nile to carry food to the monastery of Abbot Serapion.  When he disembarked, his disciples advanced to meet him with great demonstrations of joy.  Some raised their arms to heaven; others, prostrate on the ground, kissed the Abbot’s sandals.  For they knew already what the saint had accomplished in Alexandria.  The monks generally received, by rapid and unknown means, information concerning the safety or glory of the Church.  News spread through the desert with the rapidity of the simoon.

When Paphnutius strode across the sand, his disciples followed him, praising the Lord.  Flavian, who was the oldest member of the brotherhood, was suddenly seized with a pious frenzy and began to sing an inspired hymn—­

     “O blessed day!  Now is our father restored to us. 
     He has returned laden with fresh merits, of which we reap the
          benefit. 
     For the virtues of the father are the wealth of the children, and
     the sanctity of the Abbot illuminates every cell. 
     Paphnutius, our father, has given a new spouse to Jesus Christ. 
     By his wondrous art, he has changed a black sheep into a white
          sheep. 
     And now, behold, he has returned to us, laden with fresh merits. 
     Like unto the bee of the Arsinoetid, heavy with the nectar of
          flowers. 
     Even as the ram of Nubia, which could hardly bear the weight of its
     abundant wool. 
     Let us celebrate this day by mingling oil with our food.”

When they came to the door of the Abbot’s cell, they fell on their knees, and said—­

“Let our father bless us, and give each of us a measure of oil to celebrate his return.”

Paul the Fool, who alone had remained standing, asked, “Who is this man?” and did not recognise Paphnutius.  But no one paid any attention to what he said, as he was known to be devoid of intelligence, though filled with piety.