THE TEMPTING of 
 FATHER ANTHONY 
 
 GEORGE HORTON 
 
 v&XS/
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT
 
 THE TEMPTING OF 
 FATHER ANTHONY
 
 Paraskev.
 
 Tempting of 
 Father Anthony 
 
 C^GEORGE HORTON 
 
 Author of "Like Another Helen" 
 
 WITH FIVE FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS 
 BY OTTO SCHNEIDER 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 Z 
 
 90
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 BY A. C. McCLURG & CO. 
 
 A. D. 1901
 
 t 
 
 AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 
 TO 
 
 KATHERINE D. HORTON 
 
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 FRAGMENT OF LOST PLAY 
 
 939852
 
 List of Illustrations 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PARASKEVE ....... Frontispiece 
 
 THE TORCHES WERE RAISED ON HIGH . . Jl 
 
 PAPA EVANGELOS MOUNTED HIS MULE . . I2Q 
 STEPPING SAFELY FROM ROCK TO ROCK . . 225 
 BURNING IN THE LEVEL RAYS OF THE SUN, WAS 
 
 A TERRA COTTA SAIL .... 24!
 
 The Tempting of Father 
 Anthony 
 
 I. 
 
 ONE drowsy afternoon in August, Anas- 
 tasi Kriezes lay in the cool shadow 
 of a fig-tree reading. Above him, white 
 against the hillside, was the quaint town of 
 Damala. It looks like a snow-bank when 
 seen far from the sea. Below him were 
 the plains of ancient Trcezen, and at a 
 greater distance laughed the open sea. All 
 the country round him was sacred in classic 
 interest, and beautiful beyond the portrayal 
 of pen. But of these things Anastasi had 
 no perception. From his infancy he had 
 gathered anemones on the site of a buried 
 city, and he knew no phase of nature save 
 those of mountains and sea. 
 
 9
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 Besides, Anastasi was seventeen, and he 
 was reading for the hundredth time a story 
 that had produced as strong an impres 
 sion on his mind as fairy tale ever made 
 upon the mind of boy. He lay flat upon 
 his stomach, elbows on the ground, face 
 resting between his two hands. Before him 
 was a large, flat book written in Greek, 
 and entitled " Lives of the Saints." It 
 was opened at the " Life of St. Anthony 
 the Great," and Anastasi was in the middle 
 of an exciting adventure between that won 
 derful man and a whole army of demons. 
 
 The youth had acquired his love of eccle 
 siastical literature by heredity. His father 
 was officiating priest of the little Greek 
 church of Damala, an office which had 
 been held by members of the same fam 
 ily through many succeeding generations. 
 No one doubted that Anastasi would marry 
 in time, and take his father s place in the 
 two - roomed house by the church, and 
 in the church itself. He would thus be-
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 come the greatest man in the commu 
 nity, greater than the village schoolmaster 
 and the demarch (mayor). Consciousness 
 of this fact had given him a serious air 
 almost as soon as he was able to talk, 
 and had inspired him to hold aloof from 
 his more frivolous comrades. No one had 
 ever seen him play marbles, or heard his 
 voice merrily shouting in the game of mora. 
 He was now reading aloud and his voice 
 had an excited ring: 
 
 "And St. Anthony went to certain tombs, 
 which were a long way from the village, 
 having ordered a certain acquaintance of his 
 to bring him bread every so many days; and 
 he went into a tomb, and the servant went 
 away, having closed the door after him. 
 And the saint remained alone and prayed. 
 But the devil could not endure these things, 
 and fearing lest the desert should be filled 
 with saints, he went one night with a throng 
 of demons, and he gave Anthony such 
 a beating that he was stretched out sense-
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 less from the blows. On the morning, 
 thanks to God s providence, the servant 
 came with bread, and opening the door 
 and seeing him there as one dead, he lifted 
 him up and took him to the village. And 
 when the priests were all collected together, 
 they regarded him as dead. But in the 
 middle of the night he came to himself, 
 and seeing how all slept except the ser 
 vant, to him he nodded, that he should 
 lead Anthony into the country, where he 
 had found him. Perceiving this, the ser 
 vant assisted him, and closed him again 
 in the tomb. Then the saint fell on his 
 face, and after praying, shouted: Here 
 I am! I do not flee from blows, and 
 if you do me greater evils, you cannot 
 separate me from the love of Christ, my 
 Saviour. 
 
 "The demons became more furious, see 
 ing that beaten he defied them, and they 
 took the forms of reptiles and wild beasts, 
 and filled the place with lions, and bears,
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 leopards, bulls, snakes, wolves, asps, and 
 other similar shapes, and each in its own 
 way waged war against him. The lion 
 roared to eat him, the bull to gore him, 
 and the scorpion tried to sting him " 
 
 "Anastasi! Anastasi!" called a shrill 
 voice. 
 
 The boy did not hear. 
 
 "The saint, being beaten and stung by 
 them, felt a most terrible pain in all his 
 body, but in his soul he was fearless and 
 wakeful; though he groaned for the pain 
 of his body, yet his mind was clear, and 
 he laughed the demons to scorn 
 
 "Anastasi! Anastasi! where are you?" 
 
 "And he said if you had the power, one 
 of you would be sufficient to conquer me. 
 But since your prince has lost courage, 
 for that reason you come in a throng to 
 terrify me " 
 
 "Oh, here you are!" said a boyish 
 voice. " 1 thought I should never find you. 
 Our mothers are going to bake bread, and 
 
 3
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 they want us to go up the ravine for a don 
 key-load of wild thyme." 
 
 The speaker was Kotsas, son of the de- 
 march, and the only boy in Damala who 
 was on terms of intimacy with Anastasi. 
 
 The latter meekly closed the book and 
 proceeded up the hill with his friend. The 
 two boys were dressed exactly alike, and a 
 queer couple they would have seemed to 
 any one not accustomed to their costume. 
 Each wore the vraki, short breeches of blue 
 homespun tied about the leg at the knee. 
 But such breeches! So voluminous were 
 they that a great bag of superfluous cloth 
 dropped down between the legs and almost 
 swept the ground. This bag swung to and 
 fro like a pendulum as its wearer walked, 
 and he seemed to straddle his legs to give 
 it room to oscillate. Although it was sum 
 mer in a hot clime, the boys calves were 
 encased in thick woolen stockings, also 
 home-made. Each wore a sleeveless, 
 double-breasted vest over an ordinary col-
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 ored shirt. Heavy, pointed shoes and wide- 
 brimmed straw hats completed the singular 
 costumes, so familiar in the islands and sea 
 ports of Greece. The boys themselves pre 
 sented a marked difference in physical char 
 acteristics. The demarch s son was short, 
 pudgy, and rather hard of breath. He had 
 a habit of hiding huge chunks of bread in 
 the bosom of his shirt, and he stuffed one 
 in his mouth whenever unobserved. He 
 was completely under the influence of Anas- 
 tasi, who was the stronger character. 
 
 The latter was handsome even for a 
 Greek boy. He was tall and straight, with 
 thin face and regular features. His eyes 
 were big and brown, and his hair curly. 
 
 There was no other life stirring except 
 the two boys. Everything else possessed 
 of motion or of sound gave forth a sleepy 
 influence. To such a land must the lotus- 
 eaters have come, where it "seemeth always 
 afternoon." The few sleepy clouds in the 
 blue sky moved leisurely. The white sails on 
 
 5
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 the shimmery waters seemed to drift from 
 one horizon to another. One could imag 
 ine the sailors asleep on the decks, forget 
 ful of their wives. 
 
 The boys passed through a pear orchard 
 where a million iridescent green beetles 
 were blundering clumsily among the fruit. 
 The insects were the incarnation of sum 
 mer. They were lazy, yet fierce and pas 
 sionate. Their mingled choiring made a 
 golden murmur, and when a single one 
 hummed by, his wings sounded like the low 
 note of a bass viol. Every moment a honey 
 bee or a blue-fly went by on a higher 
 octave. 
 
 On the balconies of the two-story white 
 houses, the inmates were sleeping. The 
 little square in the center of the town was 
 deserted. The doors of its two or three 
 stores of general merchandise were open, 
 but the merchants were dreaming deep in 
 the cool twilight interiors. 
 
 The priest s house and the church were 
 
 16
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 situated on the upper side of the town, in a 
 fragrant pine grove. The house was a two- 
 story structure, built, like nearly all the 
 dwellings in Greece, of stone held together 
 by adhesive mud. It consisted of one large 
 room below, with a hard earth floor, and 
 another large room above. At one side of 
 the lower apartment was the family bed, 
 and at one end was an old-fashioned fire 
 place, where cooking was done. A table, a 
 couple of benches, and two or three chairs 
 completed the furnishing of the room. As 
 for mural decorations, an eikon of the most 
 Holy Virgin hung over the bed; and a num 
 ber of pans and cooking utensils, prominent 
 among which were several long-handled 
 copper dippers for the making of black cof 
 fee, were suspended about the fireplace. 
 The scanty dishes of the household reposed 
 in a rack over a stone sink opposite the 
 bed. 
 
 Upstairs long strings of garlic were sus 
 pended from one wall to the other like 
 
 17
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 the cables of a suspension bridge. The 
 leaves had been plaited into ropes, and 
 thus the bulbs were held together. Here 
 also were piled or stowed away whatever 
 reserves of dried or vegetable food the 
 family chanced to have on hand, and here 
 Anastasi slept on the floor with his little 
 brother. Their bed consisted of a straw 
 mattress, and when cold they covered them 
 selves with goat skins. The oven, for which 
 the boys were to collect the fragrant thyme, 
 was outside the house. It was a conical 
 structure, inclosing a spacious cavern, inside 
 of which the fire was built. When its floor 
 became hot, the fire was raked one side, 
 and the huge loaves of unbaked bread 
 were laid in the ashes. 
 
 Kuria (Mrs.) Kriezes and the demarch s 
 wife shared the oven together, as their 
 houses were near. 
 
 Not a soul was stirring at the parsonage. 
 
 On the shady side of the building there 
 was a long stone bench jutting out from 
 
 18
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 the wall. It served as a seat for the fam 
 ily on summer evenings, the wall provid 
 ing a back, and it was the priest s favorite 
 place of siesta after the noonday meal. 
 Papa (priest) Evangelos was stretched 
 flat upon his back, and but for his truly 
 masculine snores, a foreigner might have 
 mistaken him for a bearded lady in re 
 pose. No one, however, could possibly 
 have thought him a sleeping beauty. His 
 chimney-pot hat, with its brim on top, 
 had fallen off, and rolled some distance 
 down the hill. The playful kitten that 
 had assisted it on its way, yielding to the 
 influence of the hour, was sleeping inside. 
 The good priest s long, gray hair, worn 
 in a woman s knot, had partially escaped 
 from its pins, and one strand hung down 
 beside the bench. His long, black robes 
 were also feminine in appearance; but his 
 venerable beard, which every breeze blew 
 about his face, was patriarchal in the ex 
 treme. Take it all in all, the ingenuity 
 
 19
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 of man has never invented a stranger phan 
 tom than a Greek priest in holy vesture. 
 
 Papa Evangelos was sleeping unreser 
 vedly. Every deep sigh, every sonorous 
 snore, was eloquent of oblivion. In Greece, 
 between one and four, the siesta is univer 
 sal, and all business is suspended; people 
 even cease dying and being born during 
 those hours. 
 
 Kotsas looked into the house. 
 
 Little Yonko and the papadia (priest s 
 wife) were sound asleep on a blanket 
 stretched on the floor. Their heads were 
 together, and their bodies formed a right 
 angle. Under an oak tree before the house 
 stood the donkey. He had forgotten his hay 
 and was nodding. Somewhere near a turtle 
 dove cooed, and its voice sounded far off. 
 
 " I say," said Kotsas, sliding down by 
 the side of the tree, "let s take a nap. 
 Nobody works at this hour of the day." 
 
 Anastasi made no reply for a moment. 
 He listened to the lullabys of nature, and 
 
 20
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 was strongly tempted. Then he felt the 
 great book under his arm, and thought 
 of Father Anthony. 
 
 " No," he replied, "one of St. Anthony s 
 greatest virtues was wakefulness. He slept 
 only two or three hours out of the twenty- 
 four. My time is almost come to go into 
 the wilderness and be a saint, and fight 
 with dragons, lions, and elephants. To-day 
 I think I will show you the cavern where 
 I am to live." 
 
 Kotsas rose to his feet, his big eyes wide 
 with interest. In his excitement he pulled 
 a piece of black bread from his shirt and 
 bit off a mouthful. 
 
 "Won t you be afraid?" he asked, his 
 utterance thick with food. 
 
 "Oh, thou of little faith!" exclaimed 
 Anastasi; "all a saint has to do when the 
 evil one gets too strong for him is to make 
 the sign of the cross. Then all the devils 
 and wild animals either run away or fall 
 down and worship him."
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 " I think I 11 go and be a saint, too," 
 said Kotsas. 
 
 "You? Pooh! Could you live alone in 
 the woods, go without sleep, and eat once 
 every two days?" 
 
 " Don t saints eat any oftener than 
 that?" 
 
 " Of course not, you ninny. Fasting is 
 one of the first principles of holiness. The 
 less a saint eats the holier he is." 
 
 "Then I think I ll be something else," 
 said Kotsas, taking another bite of bread. 
 
 Anastasi untied the nodding donkey and 
 the two boys mounted him. They took a 
 little path that ran around the dry hill, like 
 the thread of a screw. High above them, 
 to the left, towered the acropolis of ancient 
 Trcezen. The temple that crowned the 
 summit is gone, yet the great rock stands 
 there unchanged and unchangeable. The 
 true God builded so much better than the 
 false. 
 
 They passed through a pine grove.
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 Here the air was fragrant and drowsy, and 
 the fallen pine spindles were piled up in 
 the shade into fragrant couches. Innumer 
 able cicadas rasped monotonously. 
 
 Kotsas slid limply from the donkey. "I 
 must sleep," said he. 
 
 Anastasi called to his fallen comrade, 
 but received no reply. 
 
 "Kotsas! Kotsas!" The shout seemed 
 to produce a slight consciousness, which 
 only resulted in the sleeper s rolling into a 
 more comfortable position. The left arm 
 was bent and the head lolled over it. The 
 right leg was drawn up and the left was 
 straight out. 
 
 Kotsas drew in deep breaths, and let 
 them out again in long sighs. His mouth 
 was open. 
 
 " It makes me sleepy to look at him," 
 said Anastasi. " But how shall I triumph 
 over lions and elephants if I cannot con 
 quer my own flesh?" 
 
 Looking about with heavy eyes, he saw 
 23
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 a thistle but a little way off. Springing to 
 the ground, he ran to it and cut off a sprig 
 with his hatchet. Twisting it around on 
 the inside of his hat, he jammed the latter 
 resolutely on his head; but immediately he 
 snatched it off again and threw it on the 
 ground. 
 
 "Ouch!" he screamed. "Ouch! ouch! 
 ouch! Holy Virgin! Oh, my poor head!" 
 
 He put his fingers to his forehead, and 
 when he drew them away they were stained 
 with blood. 
 
 " I cannot begin crucifying the flesh 
 yet," muttered Anastasi. "A saint must 
 be further advanced than I am before he 
 begins to do that. Phew! how my head 
 hurts. But how could I stand it to be hided 
 by devils, like St. Anthony was, if a com 
 mon donkey thistle makes me scream? I 
 must do penance. I ll let Kotsas sleep 
 while I cut all the thyme myself." 
 
 Leaving the donkey in the shade, the 
 would-be saint went further up the moun- 
 
 24
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 tain side, hatchet in hand, and attacked the 
 wild thyme with a will. For two long hours 
 he worked in the broiling sun, cutting the 
 green twigs and piling them in a heap. He 
 returned at last exhausted, but triumphant, 
 to where his young friend lay sleeping. 
 After a vigorous shaking, Kotsas awoke. 
 
 The cicadas had ceased their singing and 
 a fresher breeze was stirring in the pines. 
 It made a low, aeolian murmur in the 
 branches. 
 
 Kotsas sat up and rubbed his eyes. 
 
 "Where am I?" he yawned. "Oh, I 
 remember now. Hello! Anastasi; we came 
 to cut thymari, didn t we? Holy Virgin!" 
 springing to his feet, " I ll warrant it s five 
 o clock. We must hurry or we ll both eat 
 wood (get a whipping). How hungry I 
 am." Out came the chunk of bread. 
 
 The wood is all chopped," said Anas 
 tasi, solemnly. " While you ve been sleep 
 ing, I ve been at work. Come and help me 
 tie it on the mule, and then I ll show you 
 
 2 5
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 the cavern where I m to live in the wilder 
 ness." 
 
 "The wood s all chopped!" exclaimed 
 Kotsas, through his mouthful of bread. 
 " Anastasi, you re beginning to be a saint 
 already." 
 
 The donkey was untethered and led to 
 the brush, which was quickly tied into two 
 immense bundles and hung onto the ani 
 mal s back, a bundle on each side; after 
 which he was again tied in the shade, and 
 the two boys set off briskly in search of the 
 cavern. 
 
 Not far from the pine grove a ravine 
 cut deep into the mountain side. Higher 
 up it divided into several gullies that spread 
 out like the fingers of a hand. Through 
 these water poured down in winter, filling 
 the ravine with a roaring torrent, that raced 
 across the valley below, and plunged madly 
 into the ocean. In summer, numerous little 
 springs sent their cool streams into the ra 
 vine, and water trickled down its rocky 
 
 26
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 sides. The river then became a rivulet. 
 Now that the afternoon sun was upon it, 
 like a golden serpent the brook writhed 
 across the plain to the sea, its waves shining 
 in the light like scales. 
 
 High up the ravine Anastasi pointed to 
 a cavern in one of its steep sides. Only the 
 mouth was visible and this was curtained by 
 overhanging fern. 
 
 There it is," said he, immediately be 
 ginning the ascent of the rocky wall. Kotsas 
 was greatly excited. 
 
 " Come down, my brother, come down! " 
 he cried. " Have you lost your senses?" 
 
 Anastasi was but half way up. He looked 
 like a sprawling bas-relief, or a grotesque 
 figure in a frieze. He was bending forward, 
 seizing a bush with both his hands. One 
 foot rested firmly upon a projection, and 
 the other was reaching out in search of a 
 new hold, higher up, giving him the atti 
 tude of a runner. The ascent of the wall 
 looked more difficult than it actually was, 
 
 27
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 for Anastasi did not go up in a straight line. 
 He had laid out a route of bushes and foot 
 holds that ran obliquely off to the right and 
 back again to the mouth of the cavern. In 
 a very short time he was standing below 
 the opening, his toes in a convenient hole. 
 He parted the ferns, bent far in, evidently 
 for the purpose of getting a good grip on 
 something, and then scrambled out of 
 sight. 
 
 "Come back, Anastasi, come back!" 
 shouted Kotsas. 
 
 A serious face divided the curtain of 
 ferns, and peeped through. 
 
 "Do you think," said its possessor, "that 
 St. Anthony ever had a better cave than 
 this?" 
 
 "What s in it?" asked Kotsas. 
 
 " Oh, a big room, and a little one off 
 from it. In the big room I shall fight the 
 devils, and if at any time they get too many 
 for me, I shall go into the little room and 
 
 pray. I shall hang a cross over the entrance 
 
 28
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 to the little room, so that they can t come 
 in." 
 
 Anastasi was now sitting in the entrance 
 of the cave, with his feet hanging over. 
 
 "What llyouliveon?" 
 
 " St. Anthony s helper brought him 
 bread every other day. You shall do the 
 same for me. Then, when I need strength, 
 I shall find crabs in the brook, and shall 
 roast them on the sand." 
 
 " Roast crabs are pretty good eating," 
 observed Kotsas, smacking his lips. 
 
 Anastasi did not deign to notice this last 
 remark. He had already commenced the 
 descent, which was much more difficult than 
 the going up. On the way home, the 
 priest s son more fully outlined his plans, 
 and gave his final directions. The precious 
 book had been left concealed in the ravine, 
 as the time of Anastasi s sanctification was 
 near at hand. 
 
 " When St. Anthony went into the 
 
 wilderness," said he, " he gave all that 
 
 29
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 he possessed unto the poor. He was rich, 
 but I have nothing except my pet kid. 
 Still, the principle is the same. Who is 
 the poorest person in town, Kotsas?" 
 
 Kotsas thought over the matter long 
 and carefully. Nobody in the little com 
 munity was rich, yet every soul had shel 
 ter, food, and clothing, a state of affairs 
 which is almost universal in the provinces 
 of Greece. 
 
 After much discussion, old Nestor Tom- 
 basi was fixed upon to be the recipient of 
 the kid. He was ninety years of age, bald 
 as a melon, and wrinkled like a country 
 cheese. The last member of his family 
 had died twenty years ago, and for fifteen 
 at least he had sat day after day in front 
 of a little coffee-house facing the square. 
 He had been seized with delirium tremens 
 several times, and his hand shook so that 
 he could no longer lift a drinking cup to 
 his lips. When he ordered resin wine, 
 which was of frequent occurrence, a boy 
 
 3
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 always turned the beverage down the old 
 man s throat. His teeth were still white 
 and strong, and the shaking of his head 
 caused the tumbler to rattle against them 
 as he drank. 
 
 The popular fallacy that age brings wis 
 dom prevails in Damala as elsewhere, and 
 Nestor s utterances were listened to with 
 great respect. His name should have been 
 Thersites, for he had a bitter tongue, and 
 delighted in comparing the present gen 
 eration with the youth of his own day, 
 much to the former s disadvantage. When 
 on this subject words often failed him, and 
 he would sit for half an hour snorting 
 contemptuously. 
 
 "I don t know that he s so very poor," 
 said Kotsas; "he drinks more wine than 
 any two other men in the village, and he 
 always seems to pay for it." 
 
 "That s so," argued Anastasi, "but he 
 may have only a little money after all. 
 Besides, he is the oldest man in Damala.
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 If he should become destitute, he s too 
 old to work. I must give my kid to some 
 body. No saint ever commenced without 
 giving all he had unto the poor. That 
 was the first thing St. Anthony did." 
 
 "Won t your mother worry about you? " 
 asked Kotsas. 
 
 "I suppose so. But it ll be no worse 
 for my mother than it was for St. An 
 thony s sister. The devil worried him ter 
 ribly about his sister, especially when he 
 was giving all his property to the poor. 
 But a saint can t trouble about such things. 
 He must go right on fighting the devil, and 
 let the Lord take care of his relatives." 
 
 "How wise and good you are," said 
 Kotsas, taking a bite of bread.
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 II. 
 
 ^ I ^ WO days later Anastasi departed 
 -* quietly for the cave, taking a loaf 
 of bread under his arm. With the excep 
 tion of the faithful Kotsas, he had in 
 formed no one of his intention, although 
 he had somewhat mystified the family on 
 the morning of his departure by an ex 
 traordinary outburst of affection. 
 
 Anastasi s mother was a woman of mag 
 nificent physique. She wore next to her 
 body a garment that was a combination 
 of chemise in its upper portion and of nar 
 row skirt below. The chemise part was 
 generally unbuttoned, partially exposing 
 an expansive bosom of snowy whiteness, 
 contrasting strangely with the brownness 
 of her wrinkled, masculine face. Over 
 this garment came a long, sleeveless coat 
 of white homespun, coarsely embroidered 
 
 33
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 about the edges. The papadia (priest s 
 wife) wore a handkerchief tied over her 
 ears, and when she did not go barefoot, 
 she thrust her toes into slippers that were 
 cut down even with the sole back of the 
 instep. These were so convenient that 
 she could step into them without pausing 
 when they lay in her path, and the slightest 
 kick served to remove them. 
 
 " I wonder where Anastasi is?" said the 
 priest, looking wistfully at the dinner table, 
 the noon of the boy s departure. 
 
 The board had been spread out of doors, 
 in the shade of the house, and a particularly 
 tempting repast was about to be brought 
 on: goat s head, wild greens, home-made 
 bread, resin wine, figs from the tree does 
 the king fare better? If he does, let us 
 wish him a good appetite and a careless 
 heart. Little Perikles was sent to call his 
 brother, but soon returned announcing that 
 he had sought for him through the whole 
 world in vain. 
 
 34
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 "Let s not wait, my papadia," said the 
 priest, pettishly, for a roguish wind had 
 flirted in his face a whiff from the kettle. 
 
 "Who knows where the boy is? Put 
 him aside a portion and let him eat his 
 dinner cold." 
 
 " Perhaps he has come to some harm," 
 suggested the anxious mother. " He may 
 have fallen down a rock and broken his leg. 
 He may have gone down to the sea with 
 that fat little Kotsas and got drowned " 
 
 "Poh! poh! poh! my papadia. The Holy 
 Virgin will look after him. Besides, it s not 
 time to begin worrying yet. Bring on the 
 head." 
 
 "We have never eaten without him 
 before," said the priest s wife, setting the 
 grinning head on the table, " except that 
 time when he took a donkey load of figs 
 and four dozen eggs to Poros for me and 
 the demarch s wife, to sell to the Russian 
 steamboats. Then he did n t come back 
 because his change was short one and one- 
 
 35
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 half cents, and it took him all day to find 
 the man he sold the things to." 
 
 By way of saying grace, the priest de 
 voutly crossed himself and the rest of the 
 family followed his example. 
 
 " He has a brain," said the good man, 
 spearing a goat eye with his fork and con 
 veying the delicate morsel to his mouth, 
 " and can take care of himself, wherever he 
 is. Here, papadia, take this and cheer up," 
 offering her the other eye. This was an 
 unusual gallantry, for the two choicest mor 
 sels belonged by tacit consent of all to the 
 head of the house. The good wife bright 
 ened up in spite of herself, and for the 
 moment forgot her forebodings. 
 
 " What a fortunate thing it is-" observed 
 Papa Evangelos, smacking his lips to get 
 the full benefit of the tidbit before com 
 mencing on the coarser food "what a 
 fortunate thing it is that a goat has two 
 eyes! In this very circumstance can the 
 devout mind see evidences of Divine Provi- 
 
 36
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 dence. A goat could have seen quite well 
 with one eye, but the Creator has given him 
 two, in order that we may have two of these 
 dainty morsels with our dinner instead of 
 one." 
 
 It will be observed that the good papa 
 was a theologian of no mean rank, as well 
 as a deep philosopher. 
 
 " If that s why a goat has two eyes, why 
 
 did n t the Lord give him half a dozen while 
 
 he was about it?" asked little Perikles. 
 
 Then maybe I d get one once in awhile." 
 
 "Silence, sir!" thundered his father. 
 " You are too young to understand the 
 ology." 
 
 While taking his black coffee, the priest 
 once or twice spoke of Anastasi, but he had 
 no sooner lighted his cigarette than all care 
 vanished from his mind. Seen through its 
 bluish-gray smoke, the world became fan 
 tastic, confused. As the soothing weed 
 gradually overcame him, human sounds 
 died out of his consciousness until he heard 
 
 37
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 only the golden choir of wasps and honey 
 bees, and the harping cicadas, harping far 
 away. With a sigh he threw himself upon 
 the stone bench, and the kitten, which was 
 rolling a bone under the table, ran to play 
 with his swaying robes. 
 
 " Perikles! Perikles! " called the papadia, 
 softly, "go and see if you can find any 
 thing of your brother. That s a dear." 
 
 " But where will I look, mother? I have 
 hunted through the whole world now." 
 
 " Run over and see that little imp Kot- 
 sas. If Anastasi is up to any mischief, 
 Kotsas will know of it." 
 
 In a few minutes Perikles returned. 
 
 "Well?" said his mother. 
 
 " Kotsas would n t tell me anything. I 
 think he knows something, though. He 
 looked mighty knowing." 
 
 "Where was old Karoyanni?" 
 
 "I didn t see him; but I heard him 
 snoring up on the balcony." 
 
 The papadia sighed. Kuria Karoyanni 
 38
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 did not have much control over her son. 
 The demarch could make him talk quickly 
 enough; but there was no hope of seeing 
 the old gentleman earlier than four. On 
 no pretext must a person be wakened in 
 Greece during his siesta. He must be 
 considered as having ceased to exist for 
 the time being. Nevertheless the papadia 
 dropped her dish-cloth and ran over to 
 the demarch s house. As she expected, 
 she found Mrs. Karoyanni still busy with 
 her dishes. 
 
 "Oh, Marigo!" cried the priest s wife, 
 breathlessly. "What do you think, my 
 Anastasi did not come home to dinner, 
 and I am afraid something dreadful has 
 happened to him? Do call Kotsas and 
 let s ask him where Anastasi is. Those 
 boys are such friends. They know all 
 about each other." 
 
 " Kotsas! Kotsas! Durs n t call him very 
 loud for fear of waking his father. My 
 Kotsas! Where is that wretch? Wait till 
 
 39
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 I get hold of him. I 11 pull up his ears 
 by the roots dear little Kotsas! " 
 
 Kotsas was found on the further side 
 of the house, fast asleep in the shade. 
 His mother seized him by the ear and 
 gave a vigorous yank. Had not the ear 
 been previously toughened by much yank 
 ing, it would no doubt have torn loose. 
 Many Greek mothers are ignorant of the 
 physiological use of the external portion 
 of the ear, and suppose it designed by a 
 wise Providence as a thing to be yanked. 
 
 Kotsas started to his feet with a howl 
 of pain; but seeing that he had only his 
 mother to deal with, he retreated to a 
 safe distance. 
 
 "Why didn t you answer me, you vil 
 lain? Where s Anastasi? Come, speak up 
 now, or I ll hit you a bat that ll make 
 the priest look like a spinning- whorl to 
 you." 
 
 Kotsas edged a little further away. 
 
 "Do you know where Anastasi is?" 
 4 o
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 asked the papadia. " Come, now, that s 
 a good fellow. The next honey-cakes I 
 bake, you shall help us eat them." 
 
 Kotsas looked greedy, but there is honor 
 among boys, as among thieves. He did 
 not think, without his friend s consent, 
 that he ought to reveal the locality of the 
 cave. 
 
 "Anastasi has gone to be a saint," 
 said he. 
 
 " Gone to be a saint! " cried both women. 
 
 " Hear the boy! " exclaimed one. 
 
 " Have you gone crazy ? " asked the 
 other. 
 
 "No, indeed; he has gone off like St. 
 Anthony to live in the wilderness and to 
 fight with lions, elephants, bulls, and devils." 
 
 "Holy Mother!" screamed the papadia. 
 "But where? Where?" 
 
 "I don t know," stammered Kotsas. 
 
 "I ll make you know, you rogue!" 
 shrieked his mother, picking up a stick 
 and making a lunge for the boy. Kotsas 
 
 4 1
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 took to his heels. The last thing he heard 
 was his mother s voice, crying, "Wait till 
 your father wakes up! He ll feed you 
 wood! He ll give you forty blows, less 
 one!" 
 
 "Can t we wake up his honor now?" 
 suggested the papadia. 
 
 " Holy Mother, it would be as much 
 as my life is worth. He would n t wake 
 up now to save Kotsas from drowning."
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 III. 
 
 KOTSAS went immediately in search 
 of the kid. 
 
 "I d better get it to old Nestor before 
 my father wakes up," he said, "or he ll 
 put a stop to the whole business." 
 
 The animal, which was as confiding as 
 a child, recognized its master s friend and 
 followed him, bleating and shaking its 
 stumpy tail. 
 
 By the time Kotsas arrived in the square, 
 Nestor had sought his accustomed place, 
 and was just in the act of taking his first 
 afternoon drink. Kotsas, before he turned 
 the corner of the house, could hear the 
 old man s teeth ringing against the glass 
 like ice in a pitcher. 
 
 "I have brought you this kid," said the 
 boy; " it belonged to Anastasi, and he told 
 me to give it to you." 
 
 43
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 The old man raised his shaking head 
 and gave vent to a sharp interrogative 
 "Eh?" Kotsas felt his courage oozing out 
 of his toes, but he put on a bold front. 
 
 " Here s Anastasi s kid, which he said I 
 was to give to you." 
 
 "What monkey shine is this?" asked 
 Nestor, irrascibly. " Don t you come any of 
 your tricks on me, you little bladder-of- 
 lard! I ll tell your father of you, and the 
 demarch will have to order his own son 
 thrashed. Have you no shame, to insult 
 gray hairs? " 
 
 As the patriarch had gradually raised 
 his voice to a shrill scream, ten or twelve 
 people immediately ran to the spot, crying 
 breathlessly, all together: "What is it?" 
 "What s running?" "What s in the wind?" 
 So peaceful is life in the Greek villages that 
 the least excitement calls together a crowd 
 instantly. At such times men, women, and 
 children appear as if by magic, their very 
 souls sitting in their eyes and gazing.
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 When there is the slightest thing to be 
 heard or seen, spectators spring from the 
 ground like warriors from dragon s teeth. 
 Kotsas stood in the middle of the throng, 
 trembling, holding the kid by one long 
 silken ear. He looked about for sympathy 
 or assistance, but saw nothing except de 
 vouring curiosity. 
 
 " Anastasi s gone to be a saint," he blub 
 bered, " and he wanted to divide his earthly 
 goods among the poor. He ain t got noth 
 ing but this kid, and we decided to give it 
 to old Nestor, cause he s the poorest man 
 in the village." 
 
 This announcement affected the specta 
 tors variously. Several touched their heads 
 significantly, others shouted with laughter, 
 but the greater portion continued to stare, 
 because they had not understood. But 
 something genuinely exciting now hap 
 pened. Old Nestor had comprehended 
 perfectly the last part of the explanation. 
 His face turned so purple that he seemed 
 
 45
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 about to expire of apoplexy. With con 
 siderable difficulty he rose to his feet; then, 
 swinging his long cane in the air, he brought 
 it down upon the shoulders of poor Kotsas 
 with a resounding thwack. He trembled 
 so with palsy and rage that the stick de 
 scended zigzag, like jagged lightning 
 flashes. 
 
 " I m the poorest man (whack) in town, 
 am I (whack)? You villain (whack)! 
 You scum (whack)!" But the boy by 
 this time had broken through the ring of 
 spectators, and taken to his heels, yelling 
 vigorously. 
 
 Nestor seized the cane in his left hand, 
 and, raising his right, suddenly opened it, 
 the fingers spread, the palm turned toward 
 the flying boy. Several times he drew the 
 hand back and thrust it forward again, say 
 ing, " Nah! nah!" with great impressive- 
 ness. Then he sat down again. 
 
 The devil take his father! " he gasped. 
 The devil take his grandfather! Bring 
 46
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 me some wine, quick! The poorest man in 
 Damala, eh? The devil take his whole 
 family! " Never before had his teeth so 
 rattled against the wine-glass, and he did 
 not cease snorting for an hour. 
 
 47
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 IV. 
 
 KOTSAS hurried straight to the ama 
 teur hermit s cave. 
 
 Some blackened olive brands still smok 
 ing on the sands, together with the remains 
 of a roasted crab, showed him that Anastasi 
 had been dining. 
 
 "Anastasi! Anastasi!" he called re 
 peatedly, but not till he had nearly shouted 
 himself hoarse, and had whistled shrilly 
 through his ringers several times, did he 
 succeed in arousing his friend. 
 
 "What do you want?" asked a voice 
 from the depths of the cave. 
 
 " Come out here till I talk to you. I ve 
 something important to say. There s been 
 a terrible row since you went away. I m 
 in a pretty kettle of fish through this fool 
 ishness of yours." 
 
 "Who are you?"
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 "Oh, brother, you know who I am well 
 
 enough. I m Kotsas, and I want to talk to 
 
 i? 
 you. 
 
 The mayor s son waited some time in 
 silence, but to his surprise there was no 
 response from the cave. 
 
 "Anastasi! Anastasi! are you coming 
 down?" 
 
 A deep voice issued from above: " Get 
 thee behind me, Satan. I suspect that thou 
 art the devil come in the form of my friend 
 Kotsas to tempt me. He was to come to 
 morrow with the bread." 
 
 " In the name of heaven, Anastasi, 
 come out and look. I ain t the devil. I m 
 Kotsas, and I must get back soon or my 
 father 11 break every bone in my body. 
 They re going to look for you and bring 
 you home, and he 11 thrash me till I tell 
 them where you are." 
 
 A thin, handsome face pushed through 
 the curtain of ferns, and two brown eyes 
 looked cautiously down. 
 
 49
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 " I 11 talk with you from here," said 
 Anastasi. "The devil is very cunning, 
 and I must keep on my guard." 
 
 " I tell you I ain t no devil. Look here, 
 now, you ll have to get somebody else to 
 help you in this saint business. You eat 
 roast crabs and I eat wood. When I offered 
 your kid to old Nestor, because he was the 
 poorest man in Damala, he came to life 
 and nearly murdered me. You re doing 
 more harm than good. I had to lie to my 
 mother and say I didn t know where you 
 were, and when father sees me he ll kill me 
 if I don t show him where you are. The 
 whole village 11 be out here." 
 
 " You must n t tell where I am at pres 
 ent, Kotsas; when the village gets ready to 
 come and do me honor, then will be time 
 enough for them to know." 
 
 "Father 11 thrash me till I do tell." 
 
 " But that won t hurt your soul, Kotsas. 
 A true saint fears only things that hurt his 
 
 soul." 
 
 5
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 " But I ain t no saint. Besides, you never 
 was licked by my father. He could make 
 old St. Anthony himself holler." 
 
 Anastasi thought very fast. He did not 
 wish to be taken back immediately to the 
 village and made a butt of ridicule. The 
 longer he stayed out in the wilderness the 
 more importance would his adventure as 
 sume. He was fully determined to become 
 a saint, and he must show right from the 
 start that he was in earnest. If Kotsas went 
 back now, in less than two hours the village 
 would be at the cave, and he would not be 
 allowed to remain a single night in the wil 
 derness. His first impulse was to say to 
 Kotsas: " If you tell where I am before to 
 morrow I 11 thrash you twice as hard as 
 your father does." But he immediately dis 
 missed the thought as unworthy a saint. 
 Then there flashed through his head words 
 that he had heard his father quote from the 
 Evangelists: "Be ye as wise as serpents but 
 harmless as doves." He could not remem- 
 
 5 1
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 her exactly where they occurred, nor under 
 what conditions they were said, but he was 
 sure the words were intended as a sort of 
 general direction for the conduct of saints. 
 Immediately his plan was formed. 
 
 "Kotsas!" he called. "My Kotsas, 
 would n t you like to see the inside of the 
 cave?" 
 
 ;< Yes," replied the mayor s son, eagerly. 
 " But I can t climb up; I m too fat." 
 
 " I 11 fix that. I ve got an easy way to 
 come up." 
 
 " How about coming down?" 
 
 " It s just as easy. Wait till I show you." 
 
 "Honest?" 
 
 " Honest. A saint can speak no lies." 
 
 With that Anastasi let fall from the 
 cave a long grape-vine, one end of which 
 was fastened about a rocky projection 
 within. 
 
 "There," he said; "you just dig your 
 toes into the rough places and come up the 
 vine hand over hand. You can slide down 
 
 52
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 when you want to leave. God did n t give 
 us brains for nothing." 
 
 Kotsas could do that. It is a poor speci 
 men of a boy who cannot climb a rope, 
 especially when there is a mysterious cave 
 at the other end. In a very few seconds he 
 had clambered through the fern curtain, 
 and stood puffing by Anastasi s side. 
 
 "Holy Mother, but it s a wonderful 
 place!" he exclaimed. 
 
 This cavern will be famous one day as 
 the dwelling place of Saint Anastasi," said 
 the priest s son; "and you, Kotsas, will be 
 proud to say that you have been in it with 
 me." 
 
 " Hello, what s that? " cried Kotsas. He 
 had heard a sound as though something 
 had slid down the wall of the ravine and 
 dropped on the sand below. 
 
 " I let the vine go," explained Anastasi. 
 You must stay here until I get ready to 
 let you go." 
 
 In vain Kotsas begged and prayed and 
 
 53
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 wept. He hung out of the cavern s mouth 
 and tried to crawl down, but his legs were 
 too short to reach the first hole, and he 
 lacked courage. He threatened to jump 
 out and break his bones, but all to no avail. 
 Finally he sat down in the corner, took his 
 chunk of bread from his bosom, and, weep 
 ing silently, ate. Thus he fell asleep. 
 
 54
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 V. 
 
 WHILE Kotsas slept came Anastasi s 
 first temptation. At the other 
 side of the ravine, though at a consider 
 able distance lower down the mountain, 
 there were a number of large vineyards. 
 In the center of each of these, or in a 
 commanding position, was the brush cabin 
 of the watcher four piles set at the cor 
 ner of a square, and thatched with prun- 
 ings from the vines. These primitive houses 
 really have two stories. During the day 
 the occupants sit on the grass in the shadow 
 of the thatch, but at night they sleep on a 
 platform several feet from the ground. 
 Often the watchers have their wives and 
 children with them, and the families pass 
 two or three months very pleasantly in the 
 fields. Now it so happened that the watch 
 ers who dwelt near Anastasi s cave were 
 
 ss
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 in the habit of coming to the ravine for 
 water, which, being cold and pure, was prized 
 for miles around. 
 
 He had taken up the " Lives of the 
 Saints" again, and sitting near the mouth 
 of the cave, was reading with great interest 
 that passage which describes St. Anthony s 
 frequent temptations by the devil in the 
 form of a woman. By a strange coinci 
 dence, at that very moment he heard femi 
 nine voices in laughter and conversation. 
 He dropped the book. 
 
 "Can it be?" he thought. "This was 
 almost the first of Anthony s temptations. 
 Is the devil to begin on me so soon in the 
 same way? If so, I 11 show him that he has 
 come after the wrong man." 
 
 He parted the curtain and peered cau 
 tiously forth. 
 
 "Pah!" he muttered; "it s only two 
 gardener s wives coming after water." 
 
 What he saw, indeed, was two rather 
 slovenly looking women, one young, the 
 
 56
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 other about forty years of age. The elder 
 was fat, the other was about to become a 
 mother. Both wore embroidered yellow 
 handkerchiefs over their heads, and carried 
 on their shoulders huge earthen jugs, of the 
 same shape which the woman of Samaria 
 took to the well. They filled their jugs in 
 the deep, cool basin just below Anastasi s 
 eyrie, chatting of simple matters, like chil 
 dren. The saint took up his book in dis 
 gust and tried to read. Then he laid it 
 down again. 
 
 "How hard it is," he said, "to find a 
 place free from the chatter of women. 
 They are like flies, they buzz in every niche 
 of the world." 
 
 The two intruders laved their faces in 
 the limpid pool, and drank deeply of it. 
 They took off their heavy shoes, bathed 
 their feet, and paddled their legs in it, occa 
 sionally uttering little screams of delight. 
 
 " Elene, can you swim?" asked the 
 younger. 
 
 57
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 " I used to, when I was a girl. I ve for 
 gotten now. Can you?" 
 
 "Me, in my condition! Are you crazy? 
 But I d just like to take off my things and 
 lie down in it. It s so delicious. I feel as 
 if I should be cool for a week." 
 
 " Let s do it," said Elene. 
 
 Anastasi gasped with astonishment and 
 perplexity. He retired farther back into 
 his den and closed his eyes. The women 
 were strangers. He did not know them. 
 They were ignorant of the existence of the 
 cave. He might look, and no one would 
 be the wiser. At that moment he heard a 
 splashing in the water, shrill screams, and 
 laughter. 
 
 "Is it cold, my Katina?" 
 
 " Like ice." 
 
 He crawled forward, and in doing so his 
 hand hit the " Lives of the Saints." It was 
 open at the passage which he had just been 
 reading, and the big type, so familiar to 
 him, was legible even in the dim light: 
 
 58
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 " And the devil often visited St. Anthony 
 in the form of a woman, and tempted 
 him." 
 
 It all came over Anastasi like a flash. 
 
 "They are devils," he gasped. Rising 
 upon his knees, he threw his arms in the 
 air and shouted: " I know you, devils that 
 you are! Think not to prevail over me. 
 As St. Anthony defied you in Egypt, so do 
 I defy you in Greece. In the name of the 
 Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I command 
 you to be gone. Get thee behind me, Satan. 
 Avaunt! " 
 
 Loud and prolonged screams and much 
 floundering followed this strange abjurga- 
 tion. 
 
 "They fly! They fly!" yelled Anastasi, 
 and in an exaltation of excitement he 
 poured forth the catechism, all the prayers 
 he knew, and a page or two from the " Life 
 of St. Anthony," crossing himself rapidly 
 all the time. 
 
 " Holy Mother! " gasped Kotsas, crawl- 
 
 59
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 ing out from his corner; "Where am I? 
 What s the matter? Has all Damala come 
 after us?" 
 
 " Devils two devils! " explained Anas- 
 tasi, out of breath; "but I conquered them 
 and drove them away. They are gone. 
 They are vanished. They have become 
 invisible." 
 
 "Are you sure?" asked Kotsas. Long 
 and cautiously he peeped from the cave. 
 All that he saw was a yellow handkerchief 
 lying on the sand. 
 
 " In what form did they come?" 
 
 " As they came to St. Anthony, only 
 there were two of them. Two beautiful 
 women. They went in bathing in the 
 pool." 
 
 Kotsas sprang to his feet and danced 
 about in great excitement. 
 
 "Let me down! Let me down, quick!" 
 he cried. They were nereids. One of 
 them left her veil on the sand. I can get 
 
 it, and she will be my slave for life. If not, 
 
 60
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 they 11 come back, and who knows what 
 harm they may do us? " 
 
 Anastasi looked. The belief in nereids 
 is widely spread in Greece, and the supersti 
 tion of the veil is universal among the peo 
 ple. He was almost persuaded to go down, 
 but a second thought saved him: What did 
 he, a saint, want of a nereid? 
 
 "This, too, is a bait of the devil," said 
 he. 
 
 61
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE afternoon wore slowly away. At 
 first Kotsas renewed his pleadings to 
 be set free, but finding his captor inexora 
 ble, he divided the time between sleeping 
 and wondering what punishment the de- 
 march would mete out to him. The place 
 was very conducive to sleep. The cave was 
 cool and dim, and the waters ran over the 
 rocks below with a ceaseless, gurgling sound. 
 Anastasi found himself yielding to the influ 
 ence. From time to time the letters on the 
 page which he was reading grew enormously 
 big; then they all ran together, as though 
 they had been melted. At such moments 
 he pinched himself, pulled his hair, and 
 knocked his head with doubled fist. To 
 gain greater strength he turned to the pas 
 sage which described St. Anthony s watch 
 fulness. 
 
 62
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 " In watchfulness," he read, " he was 
 most wonderful, since he watched all the 
 night; not only one night, but " Here 
 the letters became blurred, and Anastasi 
 began again: " In watchfulness he was 
 most wonderful, since he watched all the 
 night; not only He did not get so far 
 as before. He pinched himself and made 
 a desperate effort to open wide his eyes. 
 The lids would not rise of their own 
 accord. It was only by wrinkling his fore 
 head lengthwise, desperately, that he suc 
 ceeded in getting them up at all. " In 
 watchfulness he was most won won " 
 
 When Anastasi awoke it was quite dark 
 in the cave, and Kotsas was calling him. 
 
 " Oh, Anastasi, in heaven s name, wake 
 up! It s dark, and I m afraid. I dursn t 
 go home now alone. There s vampires and 
 nereids around here, I know there is. Come 
 home with me, Anastasi; that s a good fel 
 low. You won t keep me out here all night, 
 will you? My father 11 go crazy. He ll 
 
 63
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 think I m dead or something. Holy Mother! 
 he ll be so glad to see me again, that he ll 
 break every bone in my body." 
 
 " Peace, peace," said Anastasi. "You re 
 not worthy to be a saint s friend. I wish 
 I d never told you of my plan." 
 
 "So do I. I don t want to be a saint s 
 friend. I don t want any dealings with 
 saints, in any way, shape, or manner. Be 
 sides, I m hungry. Have you got anything 
 to eat?" 
 
 There s only a little bread left, my 
 brother. But you will be proud one day 
 to say that the Saint of Damala shared his 
 crust with you." 
 
 " I d rather have it said that I ate roast 
 lamb with the biggest scoundrel in town. I 
 tell you, I m sick of this saint business. 
 I want to go home; the quicker I go home, 
 the less wood I 11 eat." 
 
 After this outburst, which was really a 
 remarkable effort on the part of Kotsas, 
 
 there was a k>ng period of comparative 
 
 6 4
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 silence in the cave. The demarch s son 
 sat on the floor, his back against the wall, 
 his hands clasped over his knees. When 
 he thought of his father s probable anger, 
 he moaned feebly; when he reflected on 
 Anastasi s treachery, he sniffed with indig 
 nation. 
 
 The latter was on the watch for some 
 manifestation of the evil one. If only he 
 might be vouchsafed a grand conflict with 
 the powers of darkness, the victory which 
 he was sure of gaining, would establish his 
 reputation as a saint of the first rank, and 
 would set him right in the eyes of the world. 
 That he should be victorious, he had not 
 the least doubt. St. Anthony always tri 
 umphed. 
 
 " In reading any of his conflicts," thought 
 Anastasi, "you know how it s coming out 
 before you begin." 
 
 So saturated was Anastasi with the life 
 and teachings of his great model that he 
 had not the least fear. Knowing that the 
 
 65
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 devil is most powerless over those whom 
 he finds in the attitude of prayer, he re 
 mained kneeling, eyes and ears strained 
 to the utmost, ready to catch the first 
 warning of the arch enemy s approach. 
 Thus he drifted into a sort of listening 
 ecstasy. 
 
 The moon was full that night the glo 
 rious moon, nowhere so wonderful as in 
 the deep skies of Greece. Slowly she 
 sailed through the heavens, smiling regret 
 fully upon the land that worships her no 
 more. Rugged mountain buttresses, white 
 nestling villages, pine-covered peaks glim 
 mered ghostly yet distinct in her rays. 
 
 Whenever the light leaped over an island, 
 and fell upon the space beyond, the dream 
 ing sea laughed in its sleep. Gloomy hol 
 lows were poured full of glory whenever 
 the moon passed above them. 
 
 While the ravine was yet dark, Anastasi 
 heard confused sounds below him; grunting, 
 snorting, and loud splashing in the water. 
 
 66
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 "Here they come!" he exclaimed; 
 " Kotsas! Kotsas! Kotsas! you shall now 
 see my great victory. How fortunate that 
 I have you here as a witness! " 
 
 But Kotsas, forgetting his troubles for 
 the time being, had again fallen asleep. 
 
 "Wake up! Wake up!" shouted Anastasi, 
 shaking his companion vigorously; "you 
 must be a witness to my great battle." 
 
 "What is it? What in heaven s name 
 is the matter now?" demanded Kotsas. 
 
 "Why, the devil has come, and has 
 brought with him his lions, his bulls, and 
 his rhinoceroses. You must wake up and 
 hear me defy them." 
 
 Kotsas listened. "Holy Mother!" he 
 said, " it s the nereids. I shall never get 
 out of this place alive." 
 
 Anastasi crawled to the mouth of the 
 cave, and looked down into the ravine, 
 still kneeling. Shadowy forms were dimly 
 visible, scrambling over the rocks and 
 
 floundering in the pool. 
 
 67
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 " I know you! " cried Anastasi, " but you 
 can neither tempt nor frighten me. Come 
 in any form you will, bulls, boars, or tigers, 
 I defy you in the name of the Lord." 
 
 Just then the moon, which was sailing 
 along above the mountain -ridge, looked 
 curiously down into the ravine. Instantly 
 its craggy sides leaped out of the dark 
 ness. The light glanced from one pool 
 to another down the long chasm, and the 
 rivulet gleamed like a silver thread un 
 wound in a labyrinth. Kotsas, finding 
 curiosity more potent than fear, had come 
 forward, and was peering over Anastasi s 
 shoulder. 
 
 Thank heaven, they re pigs!" he 
 gasped.
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 VII. 
 
 SOON voices were heard in the dis 
 tance shouting and the murmur of 
 excited talk. A throng of people, twenty 
 or more in number, came up the ravine 
 and stopped at the pool. One had a lantern 
 and others carried burning brands of pine. 
 The two women from the vineyard were 
 leading the way. 
 
 "This was the spot," said Elene. 
 
 " No, it was higher up," said Katina. 
 
 The two beautiful devils!" whispered 
 Anastasi. 
 
 Here commenced a voluble discussion. 
 Several members of the party told the 
 women they were frauds, and instantly all 
 commenced gesticulating and shouting at 
 the tops of their voices. While the hubbub 
 was at its height, a boy found the yellow 
 
 handkerchief, and by dancing among the 
 69
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 throng while he waved it in the air, suc 
 ceeded in attracting attention. 
 
 Elene seized it. 
 
 "Behold!" she exclaimed triumphantly, 
 " this is my handkerchief. Perhaps you ll 
 all contradict me again. Right here we 
 were in bathing, and right out of the rock 
 above our heads came the voice. It was 
 very fierce and terrible, like the growl of a 
 lion, or I don t know what dreadful foreign 
 beast. You are devils! You are devils! 
 it cried. I tell you, my heart stopped beat 
 ing, and my hair rose like a frightened cat s 
 tail. I grabbed my clothes and ran down 
 the ravine, as though a Turk were after me. 
 Three times I fell and rolled into the water. 
 But, poof! I was up and off again. I never 
 thought of Katina, but when I stopped, 
 there she was, close behind." 
 
 The boy who had found the veil here 
 gave vent to a howl of juvenile mirth, and 
 danced about upon the sands, screaming 
 
 like an imp. The picture called up by 
 
 70
 
 The torches were raised on high.
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 Elene s description was too much for him. 
 He held his sides to keep himself from 
 bursting, and his cachinnations filled the 
 whole ravine. 
 
 "Silence, you Meteso!" cried a stern 
 voice, and a sharp slap followed, changing 
 the laughter into instant grief. 
 
 "Holy Mother! that s my father," 
 groaned Kotsas. "Oh! what shall I do? 
 What shall I do? He ll skin me like a 
 herring!" 
 
 The torches were raised on high, and the 
 searching party scanned both sides of the 
 ravine carefully. 
 
 This is a curious thing," said one 
 
 "It s a miracle," said another. 
 
 "There s a cavern along here some 
 where," declared a shepherd, "but I ve for 
 gotten now where it is. Besides, it s an 
 uncanny place. We shepherds call it the 
 4 Cave of the Nymphs. 
 
 " Perhaps the voice came down from on 
 top," suggested one, bending his head back 
 
 71
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 and making out with difficulty the two lines 
 where, at the top of the cut, the blackness of 
 the ravine melted into the silver moonlight. 
 The moon had passed on, and a long belt of 
 sky, bejeweled with stars, bended far above. 
 
 "Impossible!" declared Katina and 
 Elene, together. " The voice came from 
 right here, just over our heads. It was 
 close by." 
 
 "Silence, Christians!" said the demarch, 
 in a commanding voice; " if we find the 
 authors of this prank, we shall find my son 
 Kotsas, and Anastasi, the priest s son, will 
 not be far off." Then, raising his voice, he 
 shouted: "Kotsas! You Kotsas! " 
 
 " Here! " came a frightened response. 
 The presence of his father set Kotsas trem 
 bling as with the ague, and when he heard 
 his name called, he answered, as it were, 
 automatically. The party raised their 
 torches, and gazed at the spot from which 
 the voice came. It seemed as though the 
 
 rocky wall itself were talking. 
 
 72
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 "Here I am, father; here I am! Anas- 
 tasi has got me up here and I can t get 
 down. Don t whip me, father. Anastasi s 
 a saint. But I ain t a saint. Please let 
 me off this time, my father. I don t want 
 to be a saint; I swear I don t." 
 
 "Holy Virgin! Where s the boy?" 
 chorused half a dozen voices. 
 
 "He s crazy, wherever he is," declared 
 an old man. 
 
 " I 11 make him sane soon enough, when 
 I get hold of him," observed the demarch. 
 
 " Holy Mother! " gasped Kotsas. 
 
 "Anastasi Kriezes!" shouted the papa- 
 dia, holding her torch high above her 
 head, "I command you to show yourself. 
 Your boyish prank has caused quite enough 
 trouble already. The sooner you come out 
 the better it will be for you." 
 
 "Yes, Anastasi, my boy," said the good 
 old priest, in a pleading voice, " do come 
 home. Your mother and I have worried 
 about you terribly." 
 
 73
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 Anastasi parted the ferns, and stood in 
 the mouth of the cave. He was leaning 
 against the rock, with one hand above his 
 head. The other he extended in a per 
 suasive gesture. 
 
 " Brothers and sisters," he began, " I re 
 gret greatly the annoyance that* I have 
 caused you; but I am glad that you are 
 all present to hear what I have to say. 
 As you well know, my father is priest 
 of Damala, as was his father before him, 
 and I have been educated to fill the same 
 place in my turn. But it has been re 
 vealed to me that I am to be something 
 greater than a mere priest." 
 
 "Oh, you ll be better than your father, 
 will you?" interrupted his mother, sneer- 
 ingly. " Oh, that you should ever stand 
 before me and say it! A bad year to you! 
 Your father, who for thirty years has 
 been loved and respected by the citizens 
 of Damala! You ll be better than he, will 
 you? You rogue! You villain! Come down 
 
 74
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 from there immediately. I 11 straighten 
 you out." 
 
 " Now, papadia, my papadia, don t get 
 excited," pleaded the good priest. " Little 
 Anastasi will come right down, won t you, 
 Anastasi? And then we ll hear what he 
 has to say. He will no doubt explain 
 everything." 
 
 "We ll hear him howl; that s what 
 we ll hear," declared the papadia, pulling 
 up her sleeves. 
 
 By the light of the flickering torches, 
 Father Evangelos, in his long, black robes, 
 looked like, a sacred inquisitor. When he 
 raised his arms in entreaty or depreca 
 tion, the ample sleeves spread out like 
 the wings of some great nocturnal bird. 
 You would have wondered, had you seen 
 him, why he did not give one or two 
 flaps, and light in the cave door. 
 
 Yet Father Evangelos was a sweet and 
 gentle soul. 
 
 " And what," queried the demarch, " are 
 
 75
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 you going to do so much better than your 
 honest father here? " 
 
 "I m going to be a saint," replied 
 Anastasi. The reiteration of this strange 
 statement, first by one boy and then by 
 the other, perplexed the villagers not a 
 little. 
 
 " Holy Mother! They have both gone 
 crazy," exclaimed several. 
 
 "Some one has cast the evil eye upon 
 them," said a young woman. 
 
 " I know an excellent incantation for 
 evil eye," eagerly cried an old hag, who 
 had followed the party. Though nearly 
 ninety years of age, and crooked as the 
 stem of a gourd, she was as agile as a 
 cat. Hungry time had picked clean her 
 bones, and so light was she that she floated 
 about the hills like a thistle down, collect 
 ing potent herbs; and, according to some, 
 holding commune with the spirits of the 
 wilderness. It was even whispered that 
 
 she knew how to find the cave of the 
 
 7 6
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 three fates, and that she was on calling 
 terms with the Dreadful Sisters. 
 
 As she raised her face now to talk, 
 her nose and chin bobbed back and forth 
 at each other like the features of those 
 fist silhouettes which children make on 
 the wall. 
 
 "Come down, my eyes!" she began in 
 a whining, sing-song voice; "come down, 
 my lives. Sophia will cure your poor heads 
 of the crooked idea. Just a little herb 
 from the mountain, a few powerful words, 
 a little spittle; Sophia won t hurt you; 
 my eyes, my 
 
 " I tell you I don t want to be a saint, 
 and I ain t crazy!" roared Kotsas, blubber 
 ing between the words. 
 
 Then why don t you come down, you 
 great calf ? " demanded his father. 
 
 " I can t come down. I climbed up on a 
 grape-vine, and Anastasi threw it down." 
 
 " Christian brothers, let me finish," con 
 tinued Anastasi. " It is as Kotsas says. I 
 
 77
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 am to blame for everything. In the Life 
 of St. Anthony, here he picked up the 
 book and waved it solemnly "I read how 
 that great man left his family and friends, 
 and went to live in a cavern. There he was 
 tempted by the devil in many forms, espe 
 cially as a woman. I am going to be a 
 saint, like Anthony the Great. This very 
 night the devil came to me in the shape of 
 two beautiful women and bathed in the 
 pool." 
 
 Two beautiful women! Why, that was 
 us! " exclaimed Katina. 
 
 " The poor, dear boy! " chimed in Elene. 
 " Don t be hard on him, Kuria papadia; he 
 means for the best." 
 
 Then," continued Anastasi, "he came 
 to frighten me in the shape of wild animals, 
 but I defied him. If you had not come, who 
 knows what form he would have taken 
 
 "What does the fool mean?" asked the 
 
 papadia. 
 
 78
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 "My love, my love," interposed the 
 priest, "there is some reason for the boy s 
 delusion. He has seen Farmer Leusi s ani 
 mals. They were sleeping under the trees, 
 and when they saw our torches they took 
 fright and ran up the ravine." 
 
 " Let it be so," cried Anastasi, with a 
 wave of the hand. " I have decided to be 
 a saint, and a saint I will be. Throw up 
 the grape-vine. I ll hold it till Kotsas 
 climbs down; then you can all go home, and 
 leave me in the wilderness. God bless you 
 all!" 
 
 The papadia grabbed the grape-vine and 
 threw it up. After several unsuccessful at 
 tempts Anastasi succeeded in catching the 
 end, which he twisted around the projec 
 tion of rock. To his surprise, his mother 
 instantly started up the vine, hand over 
 hand. The lady had been a shepherdess 
 in her youth. She was somewhat heavier 
 now than when, in her early days, she had 
 
 bounded like a spotted fawn among the 
 
 79
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 rocks, and followed her kids up the wall- 
 like precipices; but even now she was by 
 no means corpulent, and her arms were as 
 strong as a blacksmith s. Ere the specta 
 tors had recovered from their first astonish 
 ment, she had disappeared within the cave. 
 
 Immediately afterward Kotsas slid down, 
 his chubby legs kicking in the air as he 
 sought vainly to catch his toes into the 
 rock. He was caught at the bottom in the 
 strong arms of his father, and began to howl 
 before he had received a blow. The worthy 
 demarch did not leave him long without 
 cause for grief. 
 
 Anastasi followed soon after. He had 
 been accustomed from earliest infancy to 
 regard his mother as the absolute ruler of 
 his father s household, and as a person who 
 could not be disobeyed with impunity. Find 
 ing himself suddenly face to face with her, 
 he felt that resistance was useless, and im 
 mediately prepared to leave the cave. He 
 
 did not escape, however, before he had re- 
 
 80
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 ceived two ringing boxes on the ear, plainly 
 audible to those below. 
 
 The good old priest, overjoyed at seeing 
 his son again, darted forward with open 
 arms to press him- to his bosom. Anastasi, 
 mistaking the action, dashed up the ravine 
 and was lost to view. 
 
 The papadia did not descend from the 
 cavern as uneventfully as she had gone up. 
 Ere her feet touched the sand, the vine 
 broke and she fell upon her back in the 
 pool of water. 
 
 The devil take the boy, I say! " she 
 shouted, scrambling to her feet. The 
 devil take him! Nah! nah! nah!" 
 
 At each " nah " she opened her fists and 
 thrust her palm in the direction whither 
 Anastasi had disappeared. 
 
 "My papadia, my papadia!" pleaded 
 Father Evangelos, "don t curse our boy." 
 
 For answer, the lady also fetched the 
 priest a ringing slap beside the head, and 
 started for home. 
 
 81
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 " Never again," said she, " shall that 
 wretch darken my door! Never again! 
 I ve suffered enough from him this night 
 to last a lifetime." 
 
 "My papadia seems to be somewhat 
 excited," explained the priest, picking up 
 his tall hat and dusting it with his sleeve.
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 VIII. 
 
 A NASTASI was neither tempted nor 
 J-*- tried further that night. He, there 
 fore, had plenty of time for reflection, and 
 the more he thought of the matter, the 
 more fixed became his determination not to 
 return home. The first thing a genuine 
 saint does," said he to himself, " is to cut 
 loose from his family. For a long time the 
 devil kept St. Anthony worrying as to 
 whether his sister was starving or not. 
 That was one of the good man s severest 
 trials, but he finally succeeded in putting 
 his sister out of his mind entirely. I must 
 forget my family right from the start." 
 
 Thus he reasoned, not even admitting 
 to himself that fear of ridicule and of his 
 mother s anger were now influencing him 
 quite as strongly as was his determination 
 to become a saint. 
 
 83
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 " Perhaps I can find something in St. 
 Anthony s life to guide me now. Holy 
 Mother! I ve left the book in the cave. 
 What shall I do if it is not there?" 
 Anastasi returned to the cave and found 
 the locality deserted. He repossessed 
 himself of the precious book, and waited 
 patiently for the dawn. For a long time 
 he heard nothing but the trickling of the 
 water in the bed of the ravine. Toward 
 morning a little breeze sprang up out of 
 the east, and whispered to the pines that 
 day was coming. Later, a church bell 
 chimed sweetly in the faint, clear distance. 
 Then Anastasi knew that the morning star 
 was keeping watch alone in the sky, and 
 that there was a flush of orange low down 
 in the east. He was so eager to con 
 sult his great authority that he could not 
 wait until the light of the cave should be 
 sufficient for reading, so he set out with 
 the book under his arm. When he reached 
 
 the mouth of the ravine, the sun was stand- 
 
 8 4
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 ing on the sea s edge, looking at the world. 
 Anastasi sat down under an olive tree, and 
 began to read eagerly. 
 
 "Yes," he said, "I have followed his 
 example faithfully so far. I have given all 
 I had to the poor; or, at least, tried to do 
 so. I have left my family. I wonder what 
 Perikles is doing now, and where my goat 
 is?" Here his eye fell again upon the 
 open page. 
 
 "And he lived as a hermit near his 
 house," said the lines, "because at that 
 time there were no monasteries in Egypt." 
 
 These words attracted Anastasi s atten 
 tion: " Because there were no monasteries 
 in Egypt," he mused. " Clearly, the mean 
 ing is, that if a monastery had existed he 
 would have gone to it." 
 
 For half an hour or more he sat in deep 
 meditation, and finally came to the conclu 
 sion that he would offer himself as a novice 
 at the monastery of the " Life-giving 
 Spring." He had never been there, but 
 
 85
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 had once been far down the mainland to a 
 point whence he had seen the white build 
 ing shining among the pines of the distant 
 island. He remembered well the wide 
 stretch of sea, the verdant slope of the 
 island, and the white walls glimmering 
 through the green. He knew that the 
 building was large, although it seemed so 
 small, and that it contained cool cloisters 
 where the monks walked and thought of 
 the good of their souls. He had heard 
 also that the good fathers owned vineyards, 
 besides orange and olive orchards where 
 they labored. He would offer to work for 
 what little bread was necessary to sustain 
 his life, and would surpass all the others in 
 austerity and victories over the evil one. 
 The monastery should be known in future 
 years as the temporary home of St. Anas- 
 tasi. 
 
 Full of this thought he set out with his 
 book under his arm. He felt very hungry, 
 and now the sun began to blaze with 
 
 86
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 intolerable fierceness. If he shut his eyes 
 for a moment to keep out the glare, a 
 dozen or so of his mother s delicious sugar 
 cakes, white and crisp, seemed to dance 
 about in the momentary darkness. Strive 
 as he would, he could not help conjuring up 
 the vision again and again. 
 
 They re just at breakfast, now," he 
 thought, and a subtile aroma of coffee filled 
 his nostrils, the ghost of a perfume. He was 
 being sorely tempted. For a little way his 
 path led along the edge of the brook. Fre 
 quently he laved his face and drank, lying 
 flat upon his stomach. Then he followed a 
 tiny aqueduct that carried a portion of the 
 precious fluid off to a distant garden. At 
 first his route lay through olive forests. 
 The hillsides were dry and brown and the 
 foliage of the trees was a dull green. 
 Lower down, he passed through a grape 
 field. The fruit was almost ripe, and the 
 amber clusters gleamed among the cool 
 
 leaves. The little aqueduct finally disap- 
 
 87
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 peared under a white mud wall surrounding 
 a garden. Deserted by his babbling guide 
 that had accompanied him so faithfully all 
 the way from the ravine, he followed the 
 wall until he came to the inclosure of 
 another garden. Between the two walls 
 was a narrow road, and in this he continued 
 his way. 
 
 The cicadas had again begun their mo 
 notonous rasping, awakened by the vivid 
 sun. Every few moments he passed a gate, 
 the entrance to a new inclosure. Here the 
 second story of a house usually peeped over 
 the wall, and within he could hear the well- 
 horse going round and round, and the plash 
 ing of the cold water as it poured into the 
 conduit and gurgled away to the reservoir. 
 Nearly all the wheels made a regular 
 "click," "click," " click," as they revolved, 
 but there was one somewhere in the distance 
 that had not been oiled, and it gave out a 
 mellow moan, like the droning of a great 
 bee. The sun shone very hot in the narrow 
 
 88
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 alley. For a long distance there was nothing 
 to relieve the eyes from the whiteness of 
 the walls and the whiteness of the dust 
 underfoot. Blackberry vines lined the road 
 everywhere. With irrigation they would 
 now have been hanging full of luscious fruit. 
 Instead, even the leaves were shriveled 
 up. 
 
 Now and then country people, who had 
 been to the early market at Poros, trotted 
 by on donkeys. They had sold their eggs, 
 vegetables, and chickens, and were returning 
 to their farms. None of them, so far, were 
 from Damala, and they did not recognize 
 Anastasi. A benevolent-looking Greek 
 overtook and passed him. He was seated 
 sidewise on a donkey no bigger than him 
 self, which he whacked first on one flank 
 and then on the other with an olive wood 
 club. The animal kept in the same track 
 with his fore feet, but his hind legs trotted 
 back and forth in a zig-zag course, as he 
 
 shrank away from the resounding blows. 
 
 8 9
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 The man had four lambs swung over his 
 saddle, each one tied by a hind leg, head 
 down. The poor animals bleated faintly 
 with pain, like moaning children, but Anas- 
 tasi did not notice their sufferings. Such 
 sights are too common in Greece to attract 
 attention. 
 
 As the little donkey continued to weave 
 from side to side under the blows, but made 
 no greater progress, the benevolent lamb- 
 merchant began to punch the animal 
 methodically at the roots of the tail with 
 the sharp end of his stick. He soon suc 
 ceeded in working a sore place, and the 
 result was highly creditable to his ingenuity, 
 for at every jab the donkey accelerated his 
 pace in a forward direction. At this 
 moment the benevolent countryman spied a 
 little church in the distance, and piously 
 made the sign of the cross with his right 
 hand, while he continued punching the sore 
 with his left. So he disappeared. 
 
 Anastasi, being on foot, could not see the 
 90
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 church on account of the garden walls, nev 
 ertheless he crossed himself. 
 
 " I had begun to grow faint from hunger 
 and thirst," he thought, "but that good 
 man has reminded me that I must put my 
 trust on high." 
 
 As though in answer to the thought, at 
 that very moment the wall on his left hand 
 ended abruptly, to commence again further 
 on. In the gap thus formed was an irri 
 gating well. The huge wheel was sup 
 plied with earthen jars. As it revolved, 
 those below were dipped in the water, while 
 those above emptied themselves into a con 
 duit that led off to the reservoir. 
 
 Fastened to the end of a pole, a blind 
 folded mule walked patiently around a 
 circle. Near the well was a house, and by 
 the open door sat an old woman spinning 
 wool with a hand spindle. By her side 
 slept a huge shepherd dog. 
 
 " If I do not have something to eat," 
 
 said Anastasi to himself, " I shall be too 
 
 91
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 weak to walk to the monastery. Many of 
 the saints have begged their bread. I will 
 ask this good woman for a crust and a glass 
 of water." 
 
 He approached and lifted his hat, saying: 
 " Good day, lady. Will you have the kind 
 ness to give me a glass of water? " 
 
 ;< There s a gourd inside the well," re 
 plied the woman, pleasantly; " help your 
 self. God s water is free. Look out for the 
 pole when the mule comes around." 
 
 Anastasi drank deep, but before he could 
 ask for the bread, the woman began to 
 question him. 
 
 " Where are you from, my boy? " 
 
 "From Damala." 
 
 "What s your principal name?" 
 
 " Anastasi." 
 
 "And the added name?" 
 
 " Kriezes." 
 
 " Any relative of Evangelos Kriezes, the 
 priest of Damala?" 
 
 " I m his son," replied Anastasi. 
 92
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 " I know him well! I know him well! " 
 cried the old woman, with animation. " He 
 married my daughter Eirene to young Stav- 
 ros Boutsophanos, who has a farm near 
 Damala. You should be proud of such a 
 father. How good he is! How just! How 
 sweet-tempered! He s a saint, that man 
 is an old-fashioned saint! All the world 
 loves him; and he loves good food, too. We 
 are killing a goat to-day. When you pass 
 by, on your way back, you must stop and 
 take the head home to your father, and tell 
 him that Panagiota Kolias sends him a 
 thousand reverences, and wishes him many 
 years to do good in." 
 
 "I must be going, lady," said Anastasi; 
 "I must hurry on," and lifting his hat, he 
 went away. He was ashamed to beg bread 
 of this woman who knew his father. " Be 
 sides," he reasoned, " she thinks my father 
 a saint, who fattens on goats eyes and the 
 white-bread offerings that his congrega 
 tion bring every day to the church. She 
 
 93
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 would n t believe I was a saint if I were to 
 tell her so. My father a saint, indeed! 
 He s a good enough man, but who ever 
 heard of a fat saint?" 
 
 After this episode the lane seemed inter 
 minable, and when at last Anastasi reached 
 a great walnut tree, he paused in its pleas 
 ant shade. Here some kind soul had made 
 a square opening in the wall, and had hol 
 lowed out a basin in the masonry. Into this 
 trickled a stream of water for the use of 
 thirsty men and animals. Anastasi drank 
 again and again. 
 
 "Oh, that s refreshing!" he muttered. 
 Peeping through the hole he could see a 
 white house, and a forest of lemon and 
 orange trees. The well-wheel was in mo 
 tion, and the well was entirely covered by a 
 spreading grape-vine supported on a trellis. 
 A fat mule walked lazily around in the 
 shade, and the leafy roof above him was 
 frescoed with clusters of green and purple 
 grapes. The sun shone on the surface of 
 
 94
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 the water in the reservoir, and a school of 
 gold-fish flashed in its pellucid depths. 
 
 " It s very nice, indeed!" said Anastasi; 
 "but even a saint can t live on cold water. 
 I wonder what I 11 do? " 
 
 He sat down under the tree to reflect 
 and consult his authority. He was faint and 
 began to feel drowsy. The more he studied 
 the bread problem, the more difficult it . 
 seemed. But even yet his faith did not 
 desert him. 
 
 " God will not let one of his saints starve," 
 he said, and so he fell asleep. 
 
 He was awakened by the clatter of ap 
 proaching donkeys, and female voices. He 
 opened his eyes, and immediately closed 
 them again, pretending to sleep. For there 
 before him, each sitting astride a little don 
 key, were Elene and Katina. 
 
 " It s the two devils," thought Anastasi, 
 " come to tempt me while I m faint with 
 hunger." 
 
 " It s the nice young man who said we 
 
 95
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 were so beautiful," said Katina; " what s his 
 name? " 
 
 " Anastasi." 
 
 " Let s wake him. Anastasi! Anastasi! 
 How sound he sleeps, poor fellow! " 
 
 "Perhaps he s run away from home," 
 suggested Elene. " His mother ought not 
 to have struck him before the whole neigh 
 borhood. I ll bet he s hungry. Let s give 
 him some of these sweet koulouria we 
 bought in Poros. We sold our eggs so high, 
 our men won t know exactly how much 
 money we had." 
 
 "Anastasi! Anastasi!" As he did not 
 stir, the two women began to pelt him 
 with the koulouria (sweet biscuits shaped 
 like small rings), laughing gleefully the 
 while. One of the biscuits striking Anas 
 tasi full in the face, it was useless further 
 to pretend sleep. He therefore started 
 to rise, when the frolicsome nymphs be 
 gan to kick their heels into the donkeys 
 
 ribs, and quickly disappeared around a 
 
 96
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 corner of the lane, shrieking with mer 
 riment. 
 
 Anastasi gathered up the biscuits, and 
 after devoutly crossing himself, fell to upon 
 them with a will. 
 
 "I wonder what sort of devils these 
 can be," he mused, "who were so pleased 
 simply because I said they were beau 
 tiful?" 
 
 97
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 IX. 
 
 REATLY refreshed and strengthened 
 by his repast, Anastasi set out again 
 with a lighter heart. The lane came to an 
 end, and right before him was the little 
 town of Galata. In the shady square old 
 men sat smoking cigarettes and marchiles, 
 and a number of maidens were filling their 
 jars at the fountain. Small craft flitted 
 to and fro in the bay. The sails of some 
 were of a terra-cotta color; of others, 
 white as the wings of a swan. A caique, 
 bound for Athens, rolled by in the fresh 
 breeze blowing up the strait. Her tall 
 masts leaned gracefully, and the water 
 gurgled about her prow. Another was com 
 ing into the harbor s mouth, with the wind 
 squarely behind. Her wing-shaped sails 
 were flung out on either side, and she looked 
 
 like a great bird swooping in from the sea. 
 
 98
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 Over the narrow bay lay Poros on a 
 hillside, its white houses flashing in the 
 sun. Where they were thickest, a black 
 rock stood out, like a grim guardian. 
 
 The fare across from Galata to Poros 
 in a rowboat is half a penny, and Anas- 
 tasi possessed an Egyptian coin of exactly 
 that amount. He had saved it because 
 of the queer spider-leg characters on it, 
 which looked as though they might have 
 some talismanic meaning. With this safely 
 in his hand, he stepped into one of the 
 boats, and two minutes afterward found 
 himself in Poros for the second time in 
 his life. 
 
 This town, one of the most picturesquely 
 situated in the world, contains about four 
 thousand inhabitants. It boasts of an in 
 credibly filthy hotel, half a dozen wine 
 shops, and a cafe or two. In the eyes 
 of Anastasi, who hailed from Damala, 
 it was a metropolis, whose inhabitants 
 lived in Persian luxury, surrounded by 
 
 99
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 all the wonders of modern civilization. 
 He thought its cafes aristocratic resorts, 
 and the caiques in the harbor, laden with 
 onions, fruit, and Italian pottery, made 
 for him a forest of shipping. On his 
 previous visit, an Englishman had been 
 pointed out to him who was staying a 
 week at the hotel, paying thirty cents 
 a day, and Anastasi had talked about the 
 wonder ever since. 
 
 Handing the man the Egyptian half 
 penny, Anastasi looked about him. For 
 the first time since setting out upon his 
 career as a saint, he felt misgivings as 
 to his own worthiness and importance. 
 Other boys, coming to the city for the 
 first time, have had similar feelings. His 
 weakness, however, was only transitory. 
 He was passing through Poros unknown 
 as yet, he thought, but the time would 
 come when the whole great city should 
 be proud to do him honor. 
 
 Strengthened by this reflection, he hur- 
 
 100
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 ried along the front of the town, passed 
 the naval station, and crossed the narrow 
 isthmus that leads to the island of Cal- 
 avria. From this point there is a good 
 road all the way to the monastery. The 
 greater part of the distance it skirts a 
 precipice, at whose base the sea slides 
 backwards and forwards ceaselessly, like 
 a strong tiger in a cage. It is pleasant 
 to walk along this road. On your left 
 all the way there is a hillside roughly 
 clad in pines, and on the right the open 
 ocean. By and by, Anastasi came to an 
 olive grove, with a brook running through 
 it, and he knew that the monastery was 
 just above him. He sat down under one 
 of the trees to reflect. 
 
 " Shall I tell the monks," he asked him 
 self, " that I have set out to be a saint, or 
 shall I simply go and offer myself as a 
 novice, and let them find out who I am 
 afterward? If I tell them I m a saint, 
 perhaps they will not believe me. Perhaps
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 some of them will be jealous, and will not 
 let me in. Perhaps even some of them will 
 laugh at me." 
 
 This last reflection decided him. A 
 Greek can endure anything better than 
 ridicule. He climbed the hill and came to 
 the monastery door. The building, a 
 rambling structure, is situated in an amphi 
 theatre of pine-covered hills. In front is a 
 deep ravine that in summer overflows with 
 pink oleander blossoms and in winter with 
 a white foaming torrent. Across the ravine 
 is a spring called "the fountain of life," 
 because its waters have health-giving prop 
 erties. Encircling mountains and a bit of 
 sea this is the horizon of the monks. 
 
 Anastasi peeped in at the door. He 
 saw a court bounded by two stories of cells. 
 A wide piazza extended around the build 
 ing on the inside, making a sort of open-air 
 hall for the monks of the upper cells. 
 Where the piazza ended, it was continued 
 by a grape arbor, the two together form-
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 ing a shady cloister for exercise and reli 
 gious reflection. 
 
 At one side of the court was the church. 
 Two cypress trees and a date palm standing 
 by it, threw their shadows into the white 
 inclosure. No one was in sight at first, but 
 while Anastasi stood looking, a young man 
 came out of a distant cell, carrying a large 
 iron kettle very carefully for fear of spill 
 ing its contents. He traversed the square 
 diagonally, and entered another door open 
 ing upon the cloister. Anastasi noticed 
 that his long black robe was belted with a 
 rope, and that he wore a soft skull cap upon 
 his head. 
 
 Anastasi stepped through the arching 
 entrance and peeped curiously into the little 
 apartment where the man had disappeared. 
 A venerable brother was tasting the con 
 tents of the kettle, and smacking his 
 lips critically. He was evidently satisfied, 
 for he moved his head up and down and 
 
 made the sign of the cross over the mess. 
 103
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 As the younger man turned to come away 
 Anastasi stepped eagerly across the square, 
 and met him in the cloister. 
 
 " Good morning, brother," said he ; " is it 
 permitted to say a word with you?" 
 
 " Not now, for I must get this lamb stew 
 over the fire. It s eleven o clock now, and 
 the father superior is dying of hunger." 
 
 But Anastasi was not to be put off so 
 easily. He followed the cook, for such his 
 new-found acquaintance proved to be, the 
 entire length of the cloister and into the 
 kitchen itself. Anastasi had never seen 
 anything like this room before, and he 
 gazed about him for a moment in silent 
 amazement. In the center was an immense 
 stone altar on which a log fire was burning. 
 The smoke ascended in a column and 
 escaped through an opening in the pyramid- 
 shaped room. On each side of the fire was 
 a crotch of iron. In the crotches the cook 
 now laid an iron bar, after having first 
 
 passed it through the handle of the kettle. 
 104
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 He then raked back the burning logs, and 
 piled the coals high under the stew. Step 
 ping suddenly back from the fire, he bumped 
 against Anastasi. 
 
 " Hello," said he, "you here yet ? What 
 do you want of me?" 
 
 " I want to become a saint," said Anas 
 tasi. 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 "A monk, I mean. I want to become a 
 monk." 
 
 The two things don t always mean the 
 same thing, unfortunately. At any rate you 
 must go to the father superior. Do you 
 know where his cell is?" 
 
 "Yes; I think so. The one you just 
 went to with the stew?" 
 
 That s it. That s the very one." 
 
 "Thank you," said Anastasi, and he 
 started. He had not gone over half way 
 across the court before he felt the cook s 
 hand on his shoulder. 
 
 "Stop, my brother," said the latter;
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 " the father superior is a saint, but there s 
 no need of seeing him about anything 
 when he s hungry. Come and give me 
 your society until after dinner, and I 11 tell 
 you when to speak to him. I ve an idea." 
 
 The cook was a sallow-faced young man 
 with red eyes and thin red whiskers. His 
 name was Yanni, and he aimed to be a 
 philosopher. 
 
 " Has the good man been fasting, then, 
 for a long time? " asked Anastasi. 
 
 " From seven o clock this morning," 
 replied Yanni. 
 
 "Why, I don t call that fasting at all," 
 cried Anastasi. " St. Anthony used to eat 
 only once every two or three days." 
 
 But the cook was too busy at that 
 moment to continue the conversation. 
 Anastasi, who was handy about the kitchen, 
 laid aside his precious book and helped. 
 He brought fresh water from the spring, 
 washed some dishes that were lying in the 
 
 sink, tended the fire, and set the table for 
 
 106
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 the eighteen monks who made up the little 
 community of the monastery. While thus 
 employed, the church bell rang. 
 
 "What s that?" asked Anastasi. 
 
 "That s the noon call for thanksgiving 
 services," replied the cook; "they all go 
 into church now, and thank God for the 
 food they re about to sit down to. Then 
 they come into the dining-room and 
 grumble if it don t suit them. I wonder 
 why they don t have that service after 
 dinner? Then, if there was anything they 
 did n t like about the food they could com 
 plain in the proper quarter." 
 
 This flippancy shocked Anastasi inex 
 pressibly, but he reflected that his compan 
 ion was, after all, only a novice, and, 
 therefore, not perfect in grace. 
 
 Soon a tramping of feet was heard in 
 the great dining-hall, the scraping of chairs 
 on the floor, and the confused sound of 
 many voices in conversation. The cook 
 
 took down a huge copper pan from the 
 107
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 wall, and placing it on the altar already 
 described, poured in the steaming stew. 
 Seizing the dish by each handle, and rest 
 ing the edge against his stomach, he 
 disappeared within the dining-hall. Anas- 
 tasi tip-toed to the door and looked in. 
 The holy fathers were seated on wooden 
 benches, placed each side of a long table, 
 with the venerable superior at their head. 
 With one exception they were old men, 
 with gray hair, and flowing beards of the 
 same color. Their black robes gave them 
 an extremely solemn and reverend appear 
 ance. One thing that impressed Anastasi 
 especially was the immense size of the hall, 
 making the monks seem fewer even than 
 they were. This effect was increased by the 
 barrenness of floor and walls. The only 
 adornment was the eikon of the Blessed 
 Virgin, surrounded by small pictures of the 
 Byzantine emperors. This hung over the 
 head of the table, and an olive-oil lamp 
 was burning feebly in front of it. 
 
 108
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 The cook set the stew in the middle of 
 the board, and stepping respectfully back, 
 stood with bowed head while the monks 
 made the sign of the cross. A ray of 
 golden sunlight streamed in through a 
 window, and fell like a halo on the gray 
 head of the father superior. Anastasi was 
 much impressed. As soon as the meal 
 began, however, he was shocked to see how 
 heartily the monks ate, dipping great 
 chunks of bread into the stew, and quaffing 
 goblets of yellow resin wine. They were 
 merry, too, as children, bantering each 
 other and relating anecdotes. Occasionally 
 a roar of laughter went round the board, 
 the father superior joining in as heartily as 
 the others. Anastasi could not find any 
 record of hearty eating or of laughter 
 in his "Life of St. Anthony." While 
 he was pondering these things, the cook 
 bustled out and set him to grinding 
 coffee. Anastasi had often made coffee 
 
 at home, so without further instruction, 
 109
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 he made eighteen cups, strong and sweet, 
 while the cook was busy clearing away 
 the dishes, and getting old George s dinner 
 ready from the scraps. Old George was a 
 hundred and two years of age, and had 
 been a pensioner at the monastery for 
 forty years. 
 
 After dinner, the father superior rose 
 and went to his cell. The others rolled 
 cigarettes, and waited for their black coffee. 
 When the cook rushed into the kitchen, 
 demanding of Anastasi if he had finished 
 grinding the coffee, he found the latter 
 pouring the muddy liquid into the little 
 cups. 
 
 " Oh, my ill-fortune! " groaned the cook. 
 " You ve ruined the coffee. What shall I 
 do? " Picking up one of the cups, he tasted 
 the decoction with a long, thin sip, followed 
 by a loud smack. 
 
 "Perhaps it ll do," he said; "but you 
 should have waited for me." 
 
 What was Anastasi s delight, a moment 
 
 no
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 later, to hear the youngest one of the monks 
 call out: "Yanni, you ve outdone yourself 
 to-day. This coffee is a masterpiece." 
 
 The brother who made this remark was 
 about thirty-five years of age. He was tall, 
 well-formed, and strikingly handsome. He 
 had liquid-brown eyes, a large, straight 
 nose, silky, black beard, parted in the mid 
 dle of his chin, and a mustache that grew 
 up in such a way as to expose his full, red 
 lips. His complexion was a clear dark, 
 through which the blood shone like fire 
 shines through smoked glass. 
 
 You ve saved me," said Yanni, glee 
 fully, coming into the kitchen again. " Some 
 day, maybe, I 11 tell you why I was so 
 frightened. Here, take the father supe 
 rior s coffee in to him. It will give you a 
 good chance to have your say." 
 
 Anastasi went into the presence of the 
 father superior with considerable trepida 
 tion, which did not vanish until he looked 
 into the eyes of that really good man.
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 Ingenuous as a child, kind-hearted, sim 
 ple, the first tone of his voice, his first kindly 
 glance was sufficient to betray the sweetness 
 of his soul. He was seated at a writing- 
 desk, busied with his accounts. On one 
 side of the cell was a leather-covered 
 lounge. Three chairs and a book-case 
 completed the furnishing of the room. The 
 book-case was filled with huge theological 
 works, bound in brown leather, and with 
 others of a similar nature, unbound. It also 
 contained a number of valuable parchments, 
 and the charter of the monastery, a great 
 document, in beautiful Greek chirography, 
 written by a hand that ceased its labors 
 three hundred years ago. From this latter 
 manuscript dangled a copper seal, attached 
 to a long ribbon. Anastasi saw nothing, of 
 course, but the big books; but he soon 
 learned to share in the general awe of the 
 father superior, as the only man about the 
 institution who could read the mysterious 
 old papers in the library. For the hegou- 
 
 112
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 menos was an educated man, and having 
 the natural instincts of the scholar, had 
 dabbled much during his leisure in the fas 
 cinating study of paleography. The walls 
 of his cell were adorned with crude engrav 
 ings of the principal Greek monasteries 
 that at Tenos, those of Mount Athos, and 
 others, and on one side hung a huge chart, 
 covered with portraits of all the Byzantine 
 emperors. Anastasi thought they were all 
 saints, and wondered much that so many of 
 them wore helmets and swords. The idea 
 flashed through his head that they had been 
 thus accoutred for great conflicts with the 
 devil. He set the coffee down on the table 
 at the father superior s elbow, and stood 
 waiting. The good man pulled the cup 
 toward him mechanically with his left 
 hand, but continued figuring with his right, 
 without looking up. After a few moments, 
 Anastasi coughed. 
 
 " Oh, you re there yet, are you, Yanni ? " 
 said a sweet, low voice. " How many goats
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 have you bought this week? We must cut 
 down expenses for awhile now. We re 
 running behind. Ach! we re not so rich in 
 worldly goods as we used to be." 
 
 " I never bought a goat in my life, your 
 reverence," replied Anastasi. "I m not 
 Yanni at all." 
 
 The hegoumenos turned around and 
 looked up, inquiringly. 
 
 "I am Anastasi of Damala," continued 
 the young man, " and I have come all the 
 way from my town to become a saint." In 
 his confusion, he had let the cat out the 
 bag. 
 
 The hegoumenos smiled. 
 
 " One is often obliged to go further than 
 that to become a saint," he said. 
 
 " I did n t mean a saint, I meant a 
 monk," stammered Anastasi. 
 
 The holy father extended his left hand 
 and pulled the young man toward him. 
 "Sit down here and tell me all about it," he 
 
 said. 
 
 114
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 Anastasi obeyed. 
 
 "I am the son of Papa Evangelos 
 Kriezes, of Damala," he began. " All the 
 world there thinks I am to take the church 
 when my father retires; but I have been read 
 ing the Life of St. Anthony, and I want 
 to become a great man like him. I want 
 to watch and pray, and have great battles 
 with the devil. I don t want to spend my 
 life eating white church bread and goats 
 eyes, and sleeping in the shade. Neither 
 will I marry. I believe woman to be the 
 greatest bait the devil has. He tempted 
 St. Anthony worst with a woman." 
 
 The old man did not reply for a 
 moment. To tell the truth, he was puzzled. 
 This was strange language, and yet he had 
 read of just such enthusiasts in the brown 
 leather books above him. 
 
 "I know your father well," he said; "he 
 is a man much beloved; there are few 
 better priests or better Christians than he 
 is. There are some saints, my boy, who 
 
 "5
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 eat white bread and sleep in the shade; 
 would to God there were no Christians who 
 had worse failings. Do you come here 
 with your father s consent?" 
 
 " No, I went to a cave like St. Anthony, 
 and the devil appeared to me in many 
 different ways, and I resisted him; but then 
 I thought I would come to this monas 
 tery and live here among these good 
 men, and take lessons from them, until I 
 learned how a saint should act under all 
 circumstances. Oh, don t turn me away, 
 good hegoumene, don t, don t! " There 
 were tears in Anastasi s eyes, and he held 
 out his hands imploringly. 
 
 "Well, well," said the father superior; 
 "don t be uneasy, my boy; I ll write to 
 Papa Evangelos to come here and we ll 
 talk the matter over together; besides, I 
 long to see his kindly face again, and to 
 grasp him by the hand. Now go, and send 
 Yanni to me." 
 
 " Well," announced the cook, a few 
 
 116
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 minutes later, coming into the kitchen, 
 " I m to give you your food and a bed until 
 further notice, so it looks as if you were to 
 become one of us after all." 
 
 117
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 X. 
 
 THAT very evening a youthful Phldip- 
 pides brought to Papa Evangelos 
 news of his son s whereabouts. The hegou- 
 menos had wasted no time, knowing how his 
 aged friend would worry. The priest had, 
 in fact, become nearly insane, now that 
 his anxiety was really aroused concerning 
 Anastasi, and he had surprised his wife by 
 a violent outburst, in which he accused her 
 of driving the boy away by undue severity. 
 He had not taken his siesta on the day fol 
 lowing Anastasi s second disappearance. 
 This was so extraordinary an occurrence, 
 that even the kitten showed signs of 
 uneasiness, walking to and fro and mewing. 
 The priest had begun to imagine all sorts 
 of evils in connection with his son. The 
 thing which he had most comprehended of 
 
 the boy s strange behavior was, that he did 
 
 ill
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 not wish to take the church after his 
 own retirement. This, in itself, was a great 
 disappointment. 
 
 " I am getting old," he thought; " I had 
 hoped soon to see Anastasi married and 
 the father of a child a dear little grand 
 child. Then he could have taken the 
 church and I could have retired. I might 
 thus pass my declining years, loved by my 
 neighbors, surrounded by my children and 
 my children s children; and when I had 
 become, feeble, what greater satisfaction 
 than to see my own son doing my work. 
 Oh, God grant even yet that this may be." 
 
 As the day wore on, he grew more 
 apprehensive concerning the boy. Perhaps 
 he had run away again, never to return; 
 perhaps he had lost his mind; perhaps he had 
 committed suicide. The papadia believed 
 that the boy had run away simply through 
 spite, but she said nothing, for at heart she 
 felt a little ashamed of the part which she 
 
 had played at the cave. 
 119
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 Nor did she make any reply to her hus 
 band s accusations, when he said, fiercely: 
 "We found him once and you drove him 
 away. Who knows where to look for him 
 now?" 
 
 The messenger had no difficulty in find 
 ing the parsonage, and there sat the good 
 priest on the stone bench, his head between 
 his hands. 
 
 " Good morning, your reverence," said 
 a strange voice. 
 
 Father Evangelos looked up quickly. 
 "Good morning," he said; "do you bring 
 me news of Anastasi? " 
 
 For reply, the messenger took from within 
 his bosom a letter, much soiled with perspi 
 ration and dust. The priest tore open the 
 missive with trembling hands, and read it 
 eagerly. Then he danced about on the 
 hard-beaten ground till his hair slipped its 
 pins and fell down his back. He threw his 
 arms around the messenger and patted him 
 between the shoulders, saying: "Good boy,
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 good boy," in one breath, and calling 
 " Papadia! Papadia!" with the next. 
 
 " What in the world is the matter ?" 
 asked Kuria Kriezes, coming to the door ; 
 her long distaff grew out of her belt like a 
 branch from the trunk of a tree, while the 
 little crotch at its upper end blossomed with 
 a white ball of wool. Perikles hung on to 
 her dress from behind, and peeped around 
 over her hip. 
 
 "Anastasi s found, papadia. He s at 
 the monastery and wants to become a monk ; 
 I know how that is ; I had that idea myself 
 when I was a young man. The father 
 superior says I had better come to the 
 monastery. I shall start in the morning. 
 I ll soon talk Anastasi over and have him 
 back here." 
 
 " Nonsense. To think of taking such a 
 journey at your time of life! I 11 go myself, 
 rather." 
 
 The priest patted her wrinkled cheek. 
 "A mother s love works wonders, 1 know," 
 
 121
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 he said, " but since the hegoumenos invites 
 me eh? I ll borrow the demarch s ass, 
 Faithful, and shall have a very pleasant 
 journey." 
 
 The next morning the papadia helped 
 her husband upon the mule, and half 
 Damala gathered around to wish him a safe 
 journey and a joyful return. Soon he was 
 toiling down the steep mountainside on the 
 animal s back. He entered a narrow defile, 
 and gradually disappeared, the last thing 
 that was seen of him being his inverted 
 stove-.pipe hat bobbing up and down between 
 the rocks. Despite the predictions of his 
 wife, he made the entire journey in safety, 
 the only real difficulty which he encountered 
 occurring at the ferry. Here the boatman 
 wished him to dismount, but Father Evan- 
 gelos, fearful of compromising his dignity, 
 urged the mule into the small rowboat, and 
 crossed the ferry on the animal s back, 
 holding his white umbrella above his head. 
 
 133
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 Thus he went into Poros in the most dig 
 nified manner possible, looking like an 
 equestrian statue of benevolence designed 
 for the public square. 
 
 123
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 XI. 
 
 PAPA EVANGELOS was received by 
 the father superior with demonstra 
 tions of unfeigned delight. The two old 
 men had been warmest friends from youth, 
 but had not met in twenty-five years. 
 Many affectionate messages had passed be 
 tween them, and each had yearned deeply 
 to shake the other by the hand once more, 
 but neither had dreamed of making the 
 necessary journey. Father Evangelos be 
 longed to the town of Damala, and there he 
 stayed. The hegoumenos had not been out 
 of sight of the monastery in a quarter of 
 a century, and the tall cypress tree in the 
 court could have made an excursion as 
 easily as he. Now that necessity had 
 brought the two together again, they em 
 braced with mutual kisses, patting each 
 other on the back and weeping.
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 Glory to God that I see you once more!" 
 Bright is the day that brings you to 
 
 me! 
 
 Arm in arm they passed through the 
 arched door, chattering the interminable 
 Greek salutations. 
 
 " How are you?" 
 
 " How do you do?" 
 
 " How are you getting along?" 
 
 "Are you well?" 
 
 "You re well, are you?" and so forth in 
 definitely. The hegoumenos led Papa 
 Evangelos to the leather sofa and sat down 
 beside him. 
 
 "It s years that I have n t seen you," 
 said the monk, laying his hand on that of 
 the priest. The latter set his tall hat upon 
 the floor, and wiped his brow with the hem 
 of his robe. 
 
 " We are growing old," he sighed. " The 
 last time I saw you I had no boy to worry 
 about. Where s the rascal?" 
 
 " Easy, easy," replied the hegoumenos, 
 125
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 "let s talk the matter over first. He s a 
 fine fellow, that boy, straight as a roasting 
 spit and has the very curls his father used 
 to have. He s been reading the Lives 
 of the Saints, and wants to become a monk 
 first and a great saint afterwards. He s 
 full of ideas about watching and fasting. 
 He thinks women are the devil s hand 
 maidens, and never wants to see one of 
 them. Now, we mustn t go too fast. These 
 may be transient notions, or there may be 
 the making of a great evangelist in the boy. 
 Wait till after dinner; I ll order a goat 
 killed and we ll have the head between us. 
 I have some wine from our own grapes and 
 resin. You shall take home a bottle of it." 
 "I m growing old," repeated the priest. 
 
 " I wanted Anastasi to take my place after 
 
 > > 
 me. 
 
 "Bah! bah! bah! your flock won t let 
 you go for twenty years yet, and besides, 
 you ve another boy. 1 11 tell you now that 
 
 I am in favor of giving Anastasi a trial. 
 126
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 Our monasteries need new blood. The old 
 men are dying off and no young ones are 
 coming in. Where we used to have eighty 
 monks we now have only eighteen. There s 
 only one young man among us. Perhaps 
 Anastasi is called of the Lord to revive our 
 monastery life. But we ll settle it all after 
 dinner. Let s talk of old times now." 
 
 Papa Evangelos dined at the right hand 
 of the hegoumenos that day. During the 
 feast the monk speared one of the goat s 
 eyes and handed it on his own fork to 
 the priest. Then he speared the other, 
 and the old men ate the two morsels 
 simultaneously, sucking them and smack 
 ing their lips. 
 
 "I never eat a goat s eye without think 
 ing of my mother," said the hegoumenos; 
 "it was a favorite proverb of hers, Who 
 eats goat s eyes eats his sisters. * Ah, 
 me! my sister is dead now fifteen years. 
 
 * Namely, eats his sisters doweries through extrava 
 gance. 
 
 127
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 You remember little Irene? I thought once 
 that you would be my brother-in-law." 
 
 So they fell to talking of old times, and 
 Anastasi was for the moment forgotten. 
 
 After dinner the boy had a long talk 
 with his father, affirming his determina 
 tion to become a second St. Anthony, and 
 it seemed to the priest the most natural 
 thing in the world to leave his son in 
 care of his old friend. 
 
 " I 11 keep on myself," said Father Evan- 
 gelos, " till Perikles is able to take the 
 church, and thus shall I give both my 
 sons to the Lord." 
 
 At four o clock, when the shadows of the 
 cypress and date-palm in the monastery 
 court had lengthened till they fell athwart 
 the further wall, and the winding road 
 above the sea lay in the shade of the 
 pines, Papa Evangelos kissed his friend 
 good by, blessed his son, and mounted his 
 mule. A demijohn of the monastery s best 
 
 128
 
 Papa Evangelos mounted his mule.
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 wine hung at his saddle-bow. Shortly 
 after the old man s departure, Anastasi 
 felt a great regret sweep over him, which 
 he tried in vain to choke down as a tempta 
 tion of the devil. His father had always 
 been very kind to him. After a severe 
 struggle he compromised with his soul, 
 and went down the road a little way to 
 catch one more glimpse of the departing 
 figure, if possible. Not seeing what he 
 sought, he fixed his eyes on the narrow 
 isthmus that lay in the distance like a slen 
 der thread between two shining stretches 
 of sea. By this neck of land must the 
 old man pass over into Poros. Anastasi 
 had not long to wait. A little black mule 
 trotted onto the isthmus, bearing a ven 
 erable man who wore a high hat and a 
 long, black robe that floated gracefully 
 over the animal s haunches. The sea shim 
 mered in the afternoon s sun like a vast 
 stretch of molten silver, and the mule 
 
 129
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 and his rider stood out on the thread 
 of sand distinct as a silhouette. While 
 Anastasi looked they seemed to slide 
 from one world into another and were 
 gone. 
 
 130
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 XII. 
 
 ANASTASI was given a narrow, high 
 cell, with whitewashed walls. These 
 latter were so thick that the window lead 
 ing into the outer world was like a tunnel. 
 Looking through, he could see a patch of 
 pines, and a bit of white road winding down 
 by the sea. 
 
 His duties were various. He assisted 
 the cook, kept the court-yard clean, and 
 when necessity arose, worked in the vine 
 yard. Besides, he was obliged to make 
 up his own bed and keep his cell in 
 order. On the whole, his life was not 
 a very hard one. In the prosperous days 
 of the monastery, it had owned extensive 
 orange and lemon groves, and its body 
 of monks were a busy community. Years 
 ago, however, a blight had fallen on the 
 trees and destroyed them utterly. Now,
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 the property consisted only of a few grape 
 vines, and an olive grove on the hillside. 
 
 Neither was Anastasi required to study. 
 His probation was of conduct rather than 
 of knowledge. Finding himself, therefore, 
 regularly entered upon the monastic life, 
 he devoted himself with renewed zeal to 
 the study of the character and teachings 
 of the great St. Anthony. 
 
 He also observed carefully the conduct 
 of the good men who surrounded him, 
 and he was much encouraged to notice 
 that they did not crucify the flesh as 
 St. Anthony had done, nor did he hear 
 that any pitched battles with the powers 
 of darkness had taken place within the 
 monastery walls. The more he thought 
 of the matter, the more convinced he be 
 came that the time was ripe for the ap 
 pearance of another great saint. Most 
 of the monks led good enough lives; but 
 none of them seemed to rise above the 
 
 plane of ordinary goodness. There were 
 132
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 several, moreover, whom Anastasi regard 
 ed as positive sinners. One old brother, 
 in particular, was overfond of the wine 
 cup. When picnic parties came to the 
 spring, Father Joseph would go and talk 
 with them for the sake of being offered 
 wine. Sometimes they spoke rudely to 
 him and sent him away. At other times 
 they gave the old man so much to drink 
 that he became silly. He was a pitiful 
 figure, for his blossoming nose and cheeks, 
 and his silly, bleary eyes harmonized but 
 poorly with his venerable beard and the 
 holy robes which he wore. 
 
 Another of the monks was a glutton. 
 He ate enormously at table; and during 
 the long fasts, he showed no signs of 
 having denied himself. Anastasi, there 
 fore, watched him carefully, and found 
 that he concealed food in his cell. This 
 monk had a round, jolly face, and little 
 pig eyes. He puffed when he walked, 
 blowing his lips apart with sudden explo- 
 133
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 sions. His stomach was enormous, and 
 his downy beard grew in tufts on his 
 rosy cheeks. He looked for all the world 
 like Falstaff masquerading in a cassock. 
 
 A third brother was too fond of gossip. 
 When families came to stay a week or 
 so at the monastery, as often happened, 
 he would worm out of them all their pri 
 vate history, and would talk about them 
 in a very worldly way afterward. Noth 
 ing delighted him more than to converse 
 for hours with some old woman about 
 subjects not usually discussed between the 
 sexes. Whenever he could get hold of a 
 young married couple he would give them 
 advice on delicate matters till the lady 
 often ran away blushing. Several times 
 had complaints been made to the father 
 superior regarding this monk. Although 
 Anastasi pried into all these matters early 
 in his life in the monastery, yet he did 
 not feel that his time was yet ripe for 
 correcting the abuses. 
 34
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 "I will wait," he thought, "till I am a 
 monk, like the rest of them, and then I will 
 make a reform in this monastery." 
 
 In the meantime, Anastasi surprised even 
 the hegoumenos by his austerity. Keeping 
 his private saint continually before his 
 mind s eye, he strove ever more and more 
 to imitate him. He ate very little, and con 
 fined his diet as much as possible to bread, 
 water, and olives. He grew thin and sal 
 low, and so serious of aspect that he gave 
 the impression of an old soul in a young 
 body. Night after night, when every one 
 else was sleeping peacefully, Anastasi sat 
 up in his cell, watching for the devil. 
 
 " If I could win some great victory now 
 in the beginning," he thought, "what a 
 superiority it would give me over these old 
 fathers who have never done anything." 
 
 But his opportunity was not to come 
 
 yet not till he had become a full-fledged 
 
 monk. At first, Yanni, the cook, who saw 
 
 in a new arrival an opportunity for com- 
 
 135
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 radeship, brought all the arguments of his 
 philosophy to bear upon Anastasi, urging 
 the latter to enjoy himself. 
 
 " I have been very lonesome here," he 
 said, "but the two of us together can lead 
 a pleasant life. Being cook, I can hide 
 away many dainty morsels, and we can eat 
 and drink of the best. Now I 11 tell you a 
 secret. I have changed my mind about 
 being a monk. That s the reason I cook 
 so well as I do. As long as I give them 
 fine meals, no one suggests that I leave the 
 servant s rank. Once in awhile the hegou- 
 menos says something about it, but then I 
 get up an extra good dish, and he keeps 
 quiet again for a week or so. All I have 
 to do is to burn a roast, or put too much 
 salt in the stew, and they 11 all insist upon 
 my becoming a novice to-morrow. But I ve 
 other ideas now. That s why I was so fright 
 ened when you made the coffee the first 
 day you came. You stick by me and learn 
 
 to cook, and we 11 see the world together. 
 
 136
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 Good cooks are more in demand than 
 saints, these days." 
 
 When Anastasi heard these words his 
 thin nostrils dilated like those of a war- 
 horse sniffing battle. Here was a tempta 
 tion of the devil. 
 
 "Get thee behind me, Satan!" he said, 
 and thereafter he treated poor Yanni with 
 such austere disdain that the latter felt 
 uncomfortable at the mere sight of him. 
 
 137
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 XIII. 
 
 LIFE in a Greek monastery is intended 
 to be an existence of gradual spiritual 
 advancement. One enters, in childhood, 
 usually, as a servant to one of the monks, 
 whom he regards as his spiritual father, and 
 to whom he looks for instruction. The next 
 step is that of the novice (in Greek Joju/ao?). 
 The novice is tried as to his ability to fast, 
 to go without sleep, and in general to resist 
 the temptations of the flesh. He who proves 
 himself worthy in this grade becomes a 
 reader (MvapoW^?), so called because he 
 reads certain services and responses at the 
 daily liturgies. Finally the reader, after 
 serving his apprenticeship, takes the vows, 
 and becomes a full-fledged monk. 
 
 Most of the inhabitants of a monastery 
 remain simple monks. As such it is not 
 necessary for them to be men of learning. 
 38
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 There are monks who cannot read, or even 
 write their names. 
 
 The deacons, priests, high priests, and 
 archimandrites must be scholars. 
 
 Anastasi was assigned as servant to the 
 handsome monk the one with the large, 
 straight nose, full, red lips, and beard parted 
 in the middle. The boy was delighted with 
 his instructor, who had a soft voice, and 
 appeared to be a most godly young man. 
 He fell so naturally into the routine of his 
 new life that it seemed as though he had 
 always lived in a monastery. Whoever else 
 slept, Anastasi was sure to be on hand for 
 midnight prayers, after which he threw him 
 self onto the bed in his clothing, that he 
 might be punctual at early morning service. 
 How quickly the days passed! A warm herb 
 drink before sunrise, with a morsel of bread; 
 then work in the vineyard or the woods till 
 noon. Services again, lunch, more work, 
 prayers, dinner, bed. He hardly had time 
 to open his beloved life of Anthony the 
 139
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 Great. So earnest and industrious he was 
 that Father Demetrius, for such was the 
 handsome monk s name, had him made a 
 novice at the end of the first year. 
 
 In this rank Anastasi did not remain 
 over six months. For who could fast or 
 who could watch like he? He put all the 
 older monks to shame. 
 
 At the end of another six months he be 
 came a reader. 
 
 With what joy and pride did he hear 
 the superior s order that he was to read 
 from the " Lives of the Saints" each night, 
 while the brothers were at dinner. Here 
 was his opportunity to hold up the absti 
 nence and sobriety of the blessed Anthony 
 before the monks just at the time when 
 they needed such a lesson most. 
 
 The father superior long remembered 
 Anastasi s first appearance as a reader. 
 The brothers were all seated about the 
 table in the long, high hall. A row of 
 
 candles down the middle of the board 
 
 140
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 threw a weird light over their bearded 
 faces and black garments. Others, stuck 
 in pieces of board projecting from the wall, 
 flickered dimly in the great hall, like little 
 stars in a vast heaven. Large chunks of 
 coarse bread lay by each plate, and there 
 were two decanters filled with the red wine 
 for which the region is noted. Where the 
 candle-light shone through these they 
 seemed to be filled with melted rubies. 
 Yanni came in, proudly bearing a stew. 
 His head was thrown back, and he held the 
 great platter straight out before him at 
 arm s length. The steam filled the room 
 with grateful incense. He set the dish in 
 the middle of the table, and all the monks 
 began to chatter in an excited manner. 
 Their lives were so monotonous, and dinner 
 was the great event of the day. 
 
 " Has it egg-plants in it, Yanni?" 
 
 " No, courges." 
 
 " Ah, courges! so much the better." 
 
 " And a taste of garlic? " 
 141
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 " Certainly, father, certainly." 
 
 "Ah, bless the Virgin!" 
 
 " I 11 warrant it s a masterpiece." 
 
 Father Joseph filled his glass to the 
 brim and took a deep draught. 
 
 "Here s health," he exclaimed, smack 
 ing his lips loudly. 
 
 " Don t let it get cold," said Father 
 Spiro, turning his round face and little pig 
 eyes toward the hegoumenos. 
 
 The latter silently dished out a portion 
 of the stew upon each of the plates. The 
 brethren crossed themselves hurriedly, and 
 fell to with much smacking of lips and 
 loud sucking of warm gravy. Men who 
 live without women soon resume the man 
 ners of the lower animals. The hegou 
 menos nodded to Anastasi, and a clear, 
 earnest voice rang out eagerly. 
 
 "And his servant brought him, every 
 two or three days, a piece of bread, and 
 none could ever surpass him in fasting, for 
 
 he ate nothing but bread and water, and 
 
 142
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 that not once a day, or twice a day, but 
 once every two or three days. So he 
 strove ever to weaken his flesh that he 
 might grow stronger in the graces of the 
 spirit." 
 
 Several knives dropped upon the plates 
 with a clatter. Father Spiro looked up, 
 his ruddy cheeks bulging with bread and 
 gravy. Father Joseph shaded his eyes 
 with his left hand, that he might the better 
 see. His right held poised in air a piece 
 of bread soaked in red wine. Father 
 Demetrius was just cracking a tender bone 
 with his teeth to get at the marrow. The 
 light of a candle shone upon his glistening 
 ivories, his lips drawn back like the lips of 
 a dog. 
 
 "This is a little surprise for you," ex 
 plained the hegoumenos, in a gentle voice. 
 "I have introduced the good old custom of 
 having readings each night during dinner. 
 Anastasi will entertain us with extracts 
 from the Lives of the Saints. 
 
 H3
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 There he stood with his beloved book 
 open on the tall lectern, holding a candle 
 in his right hand. His face had grown 
 very thin through continued fasting, and 
 his dark, abundant curls made it look more 
 meager still. And there, night after night, 
 he stood, an image of superior godliness, 
 reading to the monks tales of abstinence 
 and mortification of the flesh, while they 
 were guiltily eating of the fat of the land. 
 Often Father Joseph lifted his wine-glass 
 with trembling hand, and muttered: 
 
 This St. Anthony will drive me to 
 drink;" and Father Spiro would stuff his 
 ruddy cheeks with food, grumbling: 
 
 "Such tales of starvation! It makes me 
 hungry to hear them."
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 XIV. 
 
 ANASTASI was barely twenty, though 
 he looked double that age, when the 
 hegoumenos wrote to good Papa Evangelos 
 in Damala: 
 
 " My dear brother in Christ Greeting: 
 I see no reason why Anastasi should not 
 take the irrevocable step, and put on the 
 holy robes of our order. Such abstinence, 
 such earnestness, such devotion, I have 
 seldom seen in a novice. He has taken for 
 his model St. Anthony the Great, of Egypt, 
 and has thus far proved himself a not 
 unworthy follower of so eminent a teacher. 
 The ceremony of his ordination will take 
 place on the next anniversary of St. 
 Anthony s birth, one week from to-day. If 
 possible, I pray you to join us on the occa 
 sion, not only that you may see your son s 
 ordination, but that I may again look upon 
 
 MS
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 the face of my old and dear friend. Greet 
 ings and love to your family, and to all the 
 Christian brethren and sisters of your little 
 flock. Peace be with you. 
 
 " DEMETRIOS, HEGOUMENOS." 
 
 But Papa Evangelos reminded the hegou- 
 menos that he had made the great journey 
 only three years ago. " I am too old now," 
 he said, " to think of leaving my native vil 
 lage, and of wandering in far distant coun 
 tries, except it were for some matter of life 
 and death, or the salvation of a soul. I feel 
 that Anastasi is perfectly safe with you, my 
 dear brother. I yearn ever to clasp you in 
 my arms again, but I do not consider Anas- 
 tasi s ordination sufficient reason for me to 
 cross the sea, and to pass a night beneath 
 a foreign roof. My soul rejoices greatly at 
 the boy s spiritual progress. Love to him 
 and to you, and the peace that passeth 
 understanding be with you all. 
 
 " EVANGELOS, THE PRIEST."
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 On the eve of St. Anthony s day all the 
 candles in the monastery church were 
 lighted. The brothers waited within, ex 
 pectantly, whispering together in groups. 
 The hegoumenos, who was also a high 
 priest, sat in the tall-backed chair at one 
 side of the nave. From the chancel screen, 
 the Holy Virgin, chubby-faced and wearing 
 a golden halo, looked down upon the gath 
 ering. At her right and left were a goodly 
 throng of saints, all done by a Byzantine 
 artist; St. John the Baptist, Michael with a 
 flashing sword, George and the dragon, St. 
 Thomas praying for his murderers, and 
 many others. At either side of the chancel 
 door stood a brass candlestick, high as a 
 man, and in both of them candles were 
 burning. So light was the interior that the 
 rich gilding on the chancel screen and the 
 halos of the saints glistened with barbaric 
 splendor. Even the double-headed eagle 
 of the Byzantine emperors, carved in a mar 
 ble slab of the flooring, could be distinctly 
 H7
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 seen. What was Father Joseph thinking 
 of as he stood looking down at it? The 
 last Palseologus is for centuries dead. His 
 descendants are hewers of wood and car 
 riers of water. His people have long been 
 slaves to the infidel, yet that double-headed 
 eagle in the monastery church looked up at 
 Father Joseph as proudly as when, centuries 
 ago, it had been the symbol of an emperor s 
 magnificence and power. 
 
 Was the monk thinking of this, as he 
 stood looking at the ancient slab, or was he 
 meditating on his warm bed and the flask 
 of old cognac under his pillow? Let us be 
 as charitable as the circumstances will 
 admit. 
 
 At midnight Yanni seized the rope dan 
 gling from the little church tower, and rang 
 the bell vigorously. Immediately there 
 after Anastasi entered the building, naked 
 as a newly-born babe. He was accom 
 panied by his spiritual god-father, the hand 
 some young priest, carrying upon his arm 
 148
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 a black cassock, and the other sacred vest 
 ments of a monk. 
 
 The hegoumenos conducted the services 
 with great solemnity. Anastasi vowed to 
 renounce the world, women, and the devil. 
 To fast and to pray, and to live at peace 
 with his brothers in Christ. And finally to 
 observe faithfully all the rules of the church 
 and of the monastic order which he had 
 joined. Then Father Demetrius cut off a 
 lock of Anastasi s hair and glued it to the 
 eikon of the Saviour, there to remain un 
 touched till it should fall off of itself. By 
 his own request, he was rechristened An 
 thony, and under that name was enrolled 
 upon the books of the order. Finally, 
 Demetrius assisted him to put on the holy 
 robes, and tied him about with a cincture. 
 
 All the brothers kissed him, beginning 
 with the hegoumenos, and he walked out of 
 the church with a bent head and a proud 
 heart. Father Anthony went to his cell, 
 
 not to pray for strength, but to render 
 149
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 thanks to God that his armor had at last 
 been won, and that he was now ready to do 
 high battle with the Prince of Darkness and 
 all the powers of the air. 
 
 150
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 XV. 
 
 FMTHER ANTHONY was a thorn of 
 increasing sharpness in the sides of 
 his less earnest brethren. Before his advent 
 into the monastery, their lives had flowed 
 along with serene monotony, day succeed 
 ing day, and year, year, without a ripple to 
 break the sluggish current of existence. 
 If there existed under-currents of human 
 weakness, they had not been spoken of ; if 
 little eddies of human passion whirled about 
 in darker angles of the stream, no profane 
 hand had lifted the overhanging limb nor 
 pointed them out with prying finger. The 
 hegoumenos was so deeply immersed in his 
 paleography that he observed none of the 
 failings of his associates. He was, more 
 over, of so sincere a nature, and so simply 
 pious, that he took for granted equal blame- 
 lessness in all around him.
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 Father Anthony believed himself a man 
 with a mission. If people so deluded are 
 often nuisances out in the great world, how 
 much more of an affliction must such an 
 individual be whose activity is confined 
 within the four walls surrounding a cloister? 
 
 To do Father Anthony justice, he did 
 not go to the hegoumenos with complaints. 
 He reproached the brothers with their lack 
 of zeal and other failings, and continually 
 quoted St. Anthony to them. 
 
 With a sad, sweet smile, punctuating his 
 discourse with sighs, he talked to Father 
 Joseph of the sin of drunkenness, and to 
 Father Spiro of the vice of gluttony. He 
 advised the brothers to pray for strength, 
 and assured them one by one that he was 
 praying for them. They could not openly 
 object to this interest in their spiritual wel 
 fare, for the apostle from Damala was log 
 ically in the right. Yet they felt uncom 
 fortable. Even the offered prayers were 
 not received with unalloyed thankfulness. 
 152
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 In general, the man who offers to pray for 
 another is assuming too much as to his own 
 standing with the Throne of Grace. Two- 
 thirds of the people who pray for others 
 are interceding for better men than them 
 selves. 
 
 Father Anthony did not remain in the 
 monastery over two years longer. Indeed, 
 before the first twelve months were accom 
 plished he began to feel that he was sow 
 ing his seed upon stony ground that he 
 was affecting no reform among his brother 
 monks, and that he was not himself grow 
 ing in grace through association with 
 them. One brother alone seemed worthy 
 of his companionship Father Demetrius, 
 he of the white teeth, ruddy lips, and parted 
 beard. He always listened with so much 
 deference to Anthony, and replied to him 
 in such a rich, sweet voice, that the latter 
 came to regard the handsome monk as a 
 perfect type of piety and gentleness. To 
 Demetrius, the zealot confided his struggles 
 153
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 and ambitions, sure of sympathy for his 
 yearnings and comfort for his despair. 
 
 His loss of confidence in Demetrius was 
 the last straw that broke the camel s back, 
 and caused Father Anthony to renounce 
 entirely all communion with his fellow-men. 
 
 On account of the healthful location of 
 the monastery, its magnificent view of the 
 sea, and the life-giving properties of the 
 famous spring, many people sought per 
 mission to remain for a week or two under 
 its roof. At first this permission was 
 granted only to men, who usually occupied 
 vacant cells and ate at the long table with 
 the monks. As these always presented the 
 hegoumenos with greater or less sums on 
 leaving, the institution realized quite a 
 handsome income from its summer board 
 ers, a means of revenue which was all the 
 more welcome since the ruin of the orange 
 orchards by blight. 
 
 Latterly this privilege had been ex 
 tended, and whole families were granted 
 
 154
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 permission to put up in the vacant cells, and 
 to cook their meals in the great kitchen. 
 The admission of women to the sacred 
 precincts disturbed Father Anthony greatly, 
 and he often conferred with Demetrius on 
 the dangers of female society, and the 
 devil s predilection for women as bait. 
 
 But the evil one rarely baits his hook 
 with a fat woman, and the ladies who graced 
 the cloister with their presence were almost 
 invariably corpulent mothers of families. 
 
 One bright day in June, however, the 
 small community was thrown into a flurry 
 of excitement by the arrival of guests of 
 unusual appearance. 
 
 Mr. Lebessi, a Greek merchant residing 
 in Marseilles, had obtained permission to 
 remain for two weeks at the monastery, in 
 hopes that the water and the prayers of the 
 monks might cure him of a kidney disease 
 from which he was suffering, He brought 
 with him his wife, her sister, and a man 
 cook. The two ladies were each about 
 155
 
 The Tempting oi 
 
 thirty or thirty-five years of age, respec 
 tively, slender and youthful looking. They 
 dressed in chic French style and, when 
 talking with each other, always spoke in the 
 French tongue. Both had beautiful com 
 plexions, and large, soulful eyes, which they 
 knew how to use. Masses of brown hair 
 surmounted their fresh, baby faces, and 
 altogether they possessed an air of inno 
 cence and youth little less than irresistible. 
 Mrs. Lebessi was known in her family cir 
 cle as Euphrosyne, and her sister rejoiced 
 in the good old name of Theodora. The 
 latter, though the younger of the two, had 
 already advanced into that period of life 
 when, if ever, a woman becomes romantic. 
 Talk of the sentimentality of schoolgirls! 
 One lady of uncertain age can dream more 
 dreams than a dozen schoolgirls! 
 
 It was but natural that Theodora should 
 
 be smitten with Brother Demetrius from 
 
 the first instant that she gazed upon his 
 
 tall figure, his ruddy cheeks, his large, 
 
 156
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 liquid eyes, and his beautiful beard. She 
 sat upon the balcony for hours every day 
 watching to see him cross the courtyard. 
 Whenever she could think of anything to 
 say, she stopped him and questioned him 
 on the most trivial matters, only to hear 
 his sweet, low voice. Whenever he sat 
 down upon a bench in the court or by the 
 spring, Theodora would run and sit beside 
 him, and would draw him into conversa 
 tion. Often she talked of love. Beginning 
 with its divine manifestation, she would 
 lead the subject around skillfully to human 
 affection. At such times she would hold 
 her head down and look up at the poor 
 monk longingly from half-closed eyes. 
 
 All this could not go on and escape 
 Father Anthony s vigilance. He had been 
 greatly concerned from the first over the 
 arrival of these two women, and they had 
 not been at the monastery a week before 
 he was convinced that they were genuine 
 devils, and that one of them was tempting 
 
 57
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 Demetrius. At first Anthony said to him 
 self: " God has sent this temptation to my 
 friend and I will not interfere in the battle. 
 I will pray for him and watch them. If 
 his strength fails, then I will come to his 
 assistance." 
 
 From that time forward he followed 
 Theodora s every move with restless eye. 
 One evening she looked around cautiously 
 and then slipped a bit of paper under the 
 door of Demetrius s cell. As soon as she 
 had disappeared through the door of the 
 court, Father Anthony, who had been 
 watching from the kitchen window, hurried 
 across the inclosure, secured the missive, 
 and went to his own cell with it. By 
 the light of his narrow window he un 
 folded the paper, and beheld a number 
 of verses written in a delicate feminine 
 hand. At the head of the effusion was 
 a pen-and-ink sketch of two billing doves 
 seated on an olive branch; at the end 
 was another of two hearts, pierced spit- 
 
 158
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 wise by an arrow. This is what Father 
 Anthony read, his flesh creeping with hor 
 ror and indignation: 
 
 LINES TO D- 
 
 If I a little swallow were, 
 
 I d fly into your bed, 
 And build among the pillows there 
 
 My nest above your head. 
 
 There would I twitter all the day 
 
 To make you think of me; 
 To make you think of me, my sweet, 
 
 Until you cease to be! 
 
 THEODORA. 
 
 P. S. I must see you once more. I will be 
 at the same place again to-night at the same hour. 
 Oh, my darling! do not disappoint me. 
 
 TH . 
 
 When Father Anthony had sufficiently 
 recovered from his horror to be able to 
 think at all, his first impulse was to go 
 directly to the hegoumenos, show him the 
 impious letter, and denounce its author. 
 Such action, he had no doubt, would re-
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 suit in the immediate expulsion of the 
 strangers. 
 
 He sprang to his feet and actually started 
 in search of the hegoumenos, when the 
 thought occurred to him: "Oh, if this 
 were I, instead of Father Demetrius! 
 What a victory I would gain! Thus would 
 I spurn this female devil." 
 
 Assuming a majestic attitude, he threw 
 out his hand in a sublime gesture of re 
 pulsion and disdain. 
 
 But a brave warrior s greatest joy, after 
 being in a conflict himself, is to witness 
 a battle between others. 
 
 Slowly dropping his outstretched hand, 
 he soliloquized: " After all, I have no right 
 to deprive Father Demetrius of this victory. 
 This temptation has been sent him for his 
 own spiritual advancement. Why should I 
 interfere in the matter?" 
 
 Influenced by this last thought, he re 
 placed the billet-doux where he had found it. 
 
 That afternoon he talked much with 
 
 160
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 Father Demetrius on spiritual matters, and 
 even spoke of the terrible dangers to the 
 soul incurred in the society of women. 
 
 " I believe/ said Father Anthony, sitting 
 in his friend s cell, " that all women are 
 an invention of the devil. It was through 
 woman that man lost the first paradise; 
 it is through her that he most frequently 
 fails of the paradise above. Perusal of the 
 sacred writers and of the lives of the saints 
 brings this great truth home very clearly. 
 When I think of the struggles which the 
 blessed fathers have endured on account 
 of woman, my very blood runs cold in 
 my veins. It is clear that she is an in 
 vention of the devil, because the Creator 
 could have provided for the perpetuation 
 of the race without her. Is he not all 
 powerful? So firmly fixed is this idea in 
 my mind, that I shudder at the sight of 
 a woman, comely though she may be. A 
 beautiful woman produces in me the same 
 chill and aversion that one feels in look- 
 
 161
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 ing at a beautiful snake and for the 
 same reason, for they are both associ 
 ated in my mind with the devil and his 
 works." 
 
 To this homily Demetrius assented with 
 so much earnestness that Anthony was 
 more than satisfied. 
 
 " Nevertheless, I will watch them," he 
 said. The sight of Demetrius s victory 
 will give me wisdom for my own great 
 struggles, which I feel are not long to be 
 delayed." 
 
 162
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 XVI. 
 
 FATHER ANTHONY, despite his vigi 
 lance, did not see the fair Theodora 
 and the object of her affection steal forth to 
 their trysting place. Going to Demetrius s 
 cell at the hour of eleven, he found the door 
 unlocked. He pushed it open and peeped in. 
 All was silence within. No heavy breath 
 ing; no sonorous snores betrayed the sleep 
 ing priest. On the table beneath an eikon 
 of the Virgin stood a tumbler of olive oil, 
 on whose surface burned a floating bou- 
 gette. Its feeble light shone on an empty 
 pillow. Father Anthony hurried down the 
 cloister, and stole across the court, where 
 the church tower and the trees cast ghostly 
 shadows by the moon s half light. To his 
 surprise, he found the gate of the court 
 unlocked, the hegoumenos s bunch of keys 
 dangling in the keyhole. They should have 
 163
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 been hanging in the hegoumenos s room, 
 at the end of the bookcase. Once out 
 side, Father Anthony stopped to think. 
 Back of the monastery was a precipitous 
 hill; on the opposite side of the ravine 
 loomed a sheer wall of rock from which 
 flowed the miraculous spring; only two 
 ways then could they have gone, down 
 by the wide road leading to the sea, or 
 up the deep ravine among the oleander 
 bushes. The road lay white and distinct 
 in the moonlight, winding along the side 
 of a precipice. 
 
 "They are gone up the ravine," said 
 Father Anthony, "unless, indeed, she has 
 flown off with him, like the devil with 
 Doctor Faust." 
 
 So he stole cautiously along the steep 
 trail threading the bottom of the ravine, 
 listening to every step. His zeal was soon 
 rewarded. The sound of low voices in 
 earnest conversation proved that his sur 
 mises had been correct. Cautiously he 
 164
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 approached the sound until he came to a 
 little open space by the side of the trail. 
 The high oleander bushes inclosed it on 
 three sides, and at the back was a steep 
 rock. In the shadow of this stood the 
 priest and his tempter. Father Anthony 
 leaned forward, grasping the bushes with 
 nervous fingers, and pushing his thin face 
 through the foliage. His eyes gleamed like 
 the eyes of a wolf. 
 
 " Say you love me just a little, Deme 
 trius! You do love me, don t you? " 
 
 " I do love you. God knows I love you! 
 Oh, why did you come here, with your sweet 
 face and winning ways, to make me wretched 
 all the rest of my life? You have the world 
 before you. In its distractions you can for 
 get. Perhaps you will even love another. 
 But I shall stay here with my memory 
 like a prisoner chained to a corpse." 
 
 " Cruel one," said the tempter, " to think 
 that I shall ever forget! Your persistence 
 will make us both wretched for life. Oh, 
 165
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 come with me to beautiful France, and for 
 get your vows. We will be so happy in 
 each other s love, and will spend our lives in 
 doing good. Surely, the Holy Virgin does 
 not intend that you should be unhappy 
 you, so good, so noble, so beautiful 
 
 " Hush, hush, Theodora! If you love 
 me do not tempt me till I yield. Your love 
 would send my soul to hell! " 
 
 "Then I ll go with you, for I should be 
 in torment anywhere without you." 
 
 Demetrius took a sudden step into the 
 moonlight, as though to save himself by 
 fleeing, but the tempter sprang forward and 
 caught him by the sleeve. 
 
 "Oh, Demetrius! Oh, my chick! my 
 light, my life! do not leave me here to die 
 alone! " 
 
 The priest hesitated for a moment, then 
 with a groan, caught the swaying figure in 
 his arms. The head fell back upon his 
 shoulder, with the eyes closed, and the red 
 lips partly open. 
 
 166
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 Demetrius pressed kiss after kiss upon 
 the upturned mouth. 
 
 Then Father Anthony sprang from the 
 oleander bushes and fell upon his knees. 
 He turned his thin face to heaven in the 
 moonlight, and working his clasped hands 
 to and fro above his head, began to pray 
 loudly, frantically. His words poured forth 
 in a torrent of fanatic eloquence. He called 
 upon the mother of God, and the saints, to 
 assist Father Demetrius in this his hour of 
 need, to give him strength yet to overcome 
 this terrible temptation. He prayed that 
 the devil might be given his own hideous 
 shape before their very eyes, that Father 
 Demetrius might see him as he was, and be 
 saved. While he prayed, the poor lovers 
 vanished into the bushes and hastened back 
 to the monastery. 
 
 " Go to your cell, quick! and go to bed," 
 said the sharp-witted Theodora. Deme 
 trius obeyed, and Theodora, locking the gate 
 
 of the court on the inside, tiptoed into the 
 
 167
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 cell of the hegoumenos with the bunch of 
 keys, which she hung on the accustomed nail 
 at the end of the bookcase. The dear old 
 man was sleeping peacefully, as one with so 
 fair a conscience deserves. A ray of moon 
 light fell lovingly athwart the bearded face 
 and silver head. Theodora crossed herself 
 as one who looks upon great holiness or 
 death itself. Then she went to her bed. 
 
 Soon after, a loud clattering of the church 
 bell awoke the monks to midnight prayers. 
 At the same moment Father Anthony began 
 to pound violently upon the door without, 
 and to shout for admittance. 
 
 "Let me in," he cried, "quick! quick! 
 The devil has made off with Father Deme 
 trius. Help! help!" 
 
 In much amazement several of the broth 
 ers ran to the spot, while the hegoumenos, 
 soon after appearing, opened the door. 
 Yanni held a lantern on high, whose uncer 
 tain light gave an unearthly grotesqueness 
 to the strange group. 
 
 1 68
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 "Father Demetrius is lost!" shouted 
 Anthony; " I saw him in the wood being 
 tempted by the devil in woman s form, and 
 while I prayed for his deliverance they 
 vanished together. The evil one has flown 
 off with him. Down, down on your knees 
 altogether, brethren, and pray for the 
 rescue of his soul! " 
 
 "Why!" exclaimed Father Joseph, 
 "here s Demetrius himself." 
 
 And sure enough, the handsome monk 
 at that instant appeared, dressed for the 
 midnight service. All eyes were turned 
 upon him curiously as he inquired the cause 
 of the disturbance. 
 
 " Glory to God, he has escaped ! " 
 shouted Anthony; "when the devil heard 
 my prayers he fled." 
 
 All were anxious for a detailed explana 
 tion from Father Anthony, and Demetrius 
 exhibited as much curiosity as any of his 
 confreres. 
 
 " After the service, my children, after 
 169
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 the service, commanded the hegoumenos; 
 " we must not let any device of the evil 
 one cause us to neglect our duties to God." 
 
 Accordingly, after the service, Father 
 Anthony related in full all that he had seen 
 of the tempting of Demetrius. He laid 
 great stress on his own watchfulness, and 
 closed by earnestly recommending severer 
 abstinence from food and sleep to the other 
 monks. 
 
 " As for these two women now in the 
 building," he added, "I do not know 
 whether they be actually devils, or whether 
 the devil appeared to Demetrius in the 
 form of one of them. I do know that any 
 woman is, in herself, a menace to holiness, 
 and should be avoided as if she were the 
 very devil. If I had my way about it, I 
 would not allow Satan s chief influence for 
 evil to be introduced into an abode of holy 
 men." 
 
 Having delivered himself of these right 
 eous sentiments, he retired to his cell. 
 
 170
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 The other monks, one and all, took 
 sides against Father Anthony. 
 
 " Demetrius was quietly asleep in his cell 
 where he ought to have been; Anthony was 
 on the outside with the door locked against 
 him. Who knows where he had been 
 prowling? " 
 
 Each one of them, in turn, accused 
 Anthony of the fault which his own weak 
 ness suggested. 
 
 "He was off to a lamb roast somewhere, 
 and invented this story when he found he 
 couldn t get in without discovery," said 
 Father Spiro. 
 
 "Some sailors have treated him to 
 smuggled wine," suggested Father Joseph, 
 smacking his lips, "and it turned his head. 
 Once a Greek sea captain gave me a bottle 
 of Spanish wine. That was many years 
 ago, and I have n t forgotten the taste to 
 this day." 
 
 " Farmer Christodoulos has a very pretty 
 
 daughter," sneered the old monk with the 
 
 171
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 impure mind; "he should be sure she is in 
 her room o nights." 
 
 The hegoumenos reproved sternly all 
 these suggestions, and placed no faith in 
 any of them. He was, nevertheless, greatly 
 puzzled. For the family from Marseilles, 
 he had the highest respect, and could not, 
 in his mind, connect either of the ladies 
 with a scandal. It was true, also, that 
 Demetrius had been in his cell; the door of 
 the court had been locked, and the keys 
 found safely hanging in their accustomed 
 place. 
 
 The good superior at length decided 
 that Father Anthony was suffering from 
 hallucination ; that he had fasted and 
 watched until his brain had become 
 affected. He, therefore, summoned the 
 young monk before him, and advised him 
 to eat more and sleep more for awhile, and 
 to cast upon God some of the responsibility 
 which he felt for the welfare of his 
 
 brothers. 
 
 172
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 "Be not over-righteous," he quoted; 
 "for why shouldst thou destroy thyself?" 
 
 Father Anthony took the advice in no 
 kindly spirit. He had expected the highest 
 commendation for his zeal. Moreover, 
 when he found his story was not believed, 
 he grew indignant, and thenceforth treated 
 his brethren with haughty disdain. 
 
 His conduct at length became so unen 
 durable that the good hegoumenos hailed, 
 with joy, Anthony s proposal to leave the 
 monastery, and to take up his abode in the 
 wilderness as a hermit. 
 
 "There at least," said he, " I shall not 
 see men in holy garb drinking wine and 
 sucking goats eyes, neither shall I have the 
 society of women forced upon me." 
 
 Thus ended Father Anthony s monastery 
 life, and every inmate of the old walls 
 heaved a sigh of relief when his tall 
 form disappeared forever around the bend 
 in the long road that skirts the sea. 
 In his right hand, he carried his earthly 
 173
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 effects tied up in a large colored hand 
 kerchief, and his left arm hugged to his 
 side a huge book bound in pigskin. It 
 was that volume of " The Saints," which 
 contained the " Life and Victories of 
 Anthony the Good," founder of the hermit 
 system. 
 
 174
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 XVII. 
 
 PARASKEVE KOKKINOU was a very 
 beautiful girl of the buxom type. Her 
 face was oval, her lips were full and red, 
 her eyes were large and wide apart. They 
 would have been black but for a fire that 
 glowed behind them like the sun behind a 
 cloud. 
 
 Sometimes this fire smoldered, and then 
 the eyes were a dark violet in color. Some 
 times a few rays struggled through, and 
 then they took on a lighter tint. If the fire 
 blazed out in full force, as it often did, you 
 could not tell what color the eyes were, but 
 imagined yourself looking at the deep sky 
 of Greece, saturated with morning sun. 
 
 When you talked with Paraskeve, a 
 speaking intelligence came and went in her 
 eyes, for all the world as though a soul 
 peeped out of window at you every few
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 moments, and then went away again. She 
 had wavy brown hair, with fluffy locks at 
 her ears, and cunning short curls at the 
 nape of her neck. 
 
 Paraskeve s figure was magnificent. 
 Though but eighteen years of age, she was 
 a big woman, and voluptuously developed. 
 Her deep chest and swelling bosom made 
 you think that such as she should be a 
 hero s mother. She held her head erect 
 like a queen, and looked you fearlessly in 
 the face. Her back curved inward grace 
 fully like a plump colt s, and her waist and 
 hips were as God made them. Hands and 
 feet shapely and not too small; ears like 
 pink sea-shells; complexion a clear bru 
 nette such was Paraskeve. 
 
 Any man on the right side of seventy 
 who can look on such a picture and not feel 
 his heart beat faster is guilty of blasphemy. 
 Indifference in such a case is contempt of 
 the Creator s skill. Paraskeve being a 
 
 Greek peasant girl, wore a costume that 
 176
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 was becoming to a bewitching degree. Her 
 dress consisted of two principal parts: first 
 a white cotton chemise, sleeveless, reach 
 ing to her feet; and second, a wide-sleeved 
 woolen jacket that came down to the knees. 
 Both were richly embroidered in red and 
 black after the Greek style. About her head 
 she usually wore a silk scarf, and on her 
 feet Turkish half-slippers. As these latter 
 only covered her toes, the greater part of 
 her shapely feet, encased in snowy stock 
 ings knitted by her own hands, were visible 
 when she walked. 
 
 On fete days, Paraskeve wore a fillet of 
 Turkish gold coins about her forehead, and 
 many strings of the same across her chest, 
 for she was the richest girl in all the region 
 around, and it is the custom for Greek 
 country maidens to wear a portion of their 
 doweries where it can be seen. 
 
 Nor did these Turkish coins consti 
 tute all of her wealth. Her father and 
 
 mother were both dead, and the house in 
 
 177
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 which she lived with an aged aunt was her 
 own, as was also the lemon orchard of 
 three acres in which it stood. Hers, also, 
 were the proceeds of a hundred olive trees 
 on the hillslope higher up, and a fine flock 
 of goats owned her as their mistress. 
 Every time a little, weak-legged kid was 
 born and danced awkwardly about the hill 
 side, Paraskeve became that much richer. 
 
 To any one acquainted with Greek coun 
 try life, it may seem strange that so attrac 
 tive and desirable a maiden should have 
 been allowed to reach her eighteenth year 
 unmarried. It is but paying just tribute to 
 the good sense of the young men of the 
 neighborhood to say that she had been be 
 set by offers of matrimony since her four 
 teenth year. 
 
 Many times had the matchmakers come 
 to Aunt Aspasia with arguments in favor 
 of this or that young man; and really, the 
 amiable old lady was beginning to be much 
 
 concerned. 
 
 178
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 "Are you going to turn nun, my chick? " 
 she would say. " Fie upon you! so young, 
 so beautiful, and so rich! Why, you could 
 have your pick of the whole country. If 
 your father were living, he would have 
 married you off three years ago." 
 
 And at other times she would plead: 
 
 Take some nice young man, my eyes, 
 
 and let us have little children running 
 
 in and out of the door. This is too sad a 
 
 life two women living here alone." 
 
 But Paraskeve was a spoiled child. To 
 an extremely romantic temperament she 
 added a will of her own which found little 
 opposition in her independent position. 
 
 "All these men about here are so ordi 
 nary," she would answer. " When I marry 
 it must be somebody different from the 
 youths we see every day. With my dowry, 
 I can get a common farmer s lad when I 
 am forty." 
 
 This beautiful girl lived in a very beau- 
 
 ful and romantic spot. Any one who has 
 179
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 coasted along the shores of the Pelopo- 
 nesus, or sailed among the Greek islands, 
 will remember many such locations. You 
 pass miles of precipitous shore, bluish 
 gray in color, where grows not a tree- 
 scarcely even a shrub. Landward there is 
 nothing for the eyes to rest upon save the 
 long wall of rock, rent here and there by 
 deep fissures, with the sea whitely foaming 
 at its feet. You begin to grow lonely as 
 you look, to feel that you have drifted into 
 a wild world uninhabited by other men, 
 when, all at once, far down the rim of 
 foam, a green spot greets the eye. As you 
 sail nearer, a group of tall cypress trees 
 becomes distinguishable, standing like sen 
 tinels at the edge of a pleasant valley. 
 Here the gray wall has divided, and throw 
 ing out its arms, lovingly embraces a quiet 
 silver bay, with a beach shaped like the 
 crescent moon. A little stream comes 
 down from the mountain, keeping alive the 
 gardens, the fruit orchards, and the rose- 
 
 180
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 bushes that cover the white cottages. Ere 
 you pass this idyllic nook, you catch a 
 glimpse of feathery silver higher up. The 
 olive groves are there, and often a white 
 village nestles among them. 
 
 In such a nook of the world lived Paras- 
 keve. Her house stood alone on the hill 
 side, and was shaded by a great oak tree. 
 It was a small building of two stories, and 
 contained but three rooms. Rose-vines 
 clambered over one end of it, and a bal 
 cony from the upper story looked over the 
 open sea. 
 
 Was she not insupportably lonely in such 
 an out-of-the-way place? The question 
 naturally suggests itself, but we must remem 
 ber that she knew of no other existence. 
 She could neither read nor write her name, 
 and the stories which she occasionally heard 
 of the distant world and its great cities, 
 sounded to her much as speculations con 
 cerning Mars sound to more enlightened 
 intellects. It is deplorable that Greece has 
 
 181
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 taken so little care for the instruction of its 
 girls, and yet, in Paraskeve s case, inability 
 to read was not an unmixed evil. She did 
 not sit for hours every day, poring over 
 trashy novels, thus filling her mind with 
 false ideas of life, even, perhaps, with im 
 purity. On the contrary, she busied herself, 
 winter and summer, with household cares, 
 and she was not ashamed to work out of 
 doors, when necessary, helping the one old 
 man whom she and her aunt kept to work 
 about the place. There was the garden to be 
 planted and looked after; there were sheep 
 and goats to be cared for; the olives and 
 grapes must be gathered, the oil and wine 
 made. In addition to all this, the two 
 women prepared their little stock of wool 
 for the loom, carding, spinning, and dyeing 
 it themselves. Every stitch of clothing that 
 was worn by the small family was made at 
 home. 
 
 With all these claims upon her time, it is 
 
 hard to see how Paraskeve found time for 
 182
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 any further employment. It is a fact, how 
 ever, that she possessed as complete a dowry 
 wardrobe as any girl in the country, all made 
 by her own fair hands. This she kept, for 
 the most part, in a huge wooden trunk, 
 richly ornamented with mosaic work an 
 heirloom from Turkish times. Let us lift 
 the lid and peep in. A faint odor of per 
 fume escapes and greets our nostrils, the 
 aroma of some aromatic plant scattered 
 among the clothing. The things that we 
 shall admire most among the contents are 
 the beautiful embroideries. There are a 
 number of three-cornered handkerchiefs of 
 colored silk, delicately worked, and other 
 similar ones, of less expensive material. 
 These are for headwear on fete days, and 
 take the place of bonnets. The lucky swain 
 who marries a girl like Paraskeve will have 
 no Easter hats to buy. 
 
 There are several sheets of home-made 
 linen, with pillow-cases to match. On 
 
 each of these has been worked a wreath 
 183
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 of flowers, with the initials //. K. in the 
 center. 
 
 Underwear, stockings, embroidered 
 aprons why enumerate further? Every 
 Greek country girl worth having makes 
 these things herself, and brings them to 
 her husband. 
 
 Nor had Paraskeve stopped here, for she 
 had found time to weave half a dozen rugs 
 of pure wool, and as many bed blankets, all 
 in bright, variegated colors. 
 
 Thus it is easy to understand that this 
 industrious girl must have spent much of 
 her time at the little hand-loom which was 
 set up in one of the downstairs rooms. 
 
 Thus was she engaged one quiet after 
 noon in July. Red roses bent down from 
 the clambering vines, and peeped in at her. 
 The faint breeze was sweet with breath 
 from their parted lips. A thousand locusts 
 chirped monotonously in the cool oak trees. 
 The sea was visible from the open door, 
 
 shimmering between the cypress trees. 
 
 184
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 Paraskeve had laid aside her embroid 
 ered jacket, and her arms were bare to the 
 shoulders. They were pink and white and 
 very plump, and as she threw the shuttle 
 back and forth, dimples played " hide and 
 seek" in her rounded elbows. Her long, 
 glossy hair hung down her back in two 
 braids, tied at the ends with bits of colored 
 ribbon. She sang, while she worked, a 
 plaintive love song, one of those wild, 
 monotonous tunes one so often hears in 
 the Greek islands. 
 
 So occupied was she that she did not 
 hear a quick, nervous footfall outside the 
 door, nor did she look up until the shadow 
 of a man fell athwart the floor in front of 
 her. Then Paraskeve raised her eyes, and 
 so astonished was she that she kept her 
 plump, white arms outstretched over the 
 loom. 
 
 A young man stood before her, dressed 
 in the garb of a monk. His scantily bearded 
 
 face was thin and pale, but the features 
 
 185
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 were regular. His eyes were large and ex 
 pressive, and his temples were festooned 
 with short, brown curls that had escaped 
 from beneath his hat. 
 
 Paraskeve s first impulse was to scream, 
 but the sight of the holy garb reassured her, 
 so she said: " Hail, father, how can I serve 
 you?" 
 
 For answer, the monk stared so long 
 that the situation became embarrassing. 
 Then he muttered: " Holy St. Anthony 
 defend me!" crossed himself devoutly, and 
 walked away. Paraskeve noticed that he 
 carried a bundle in his right hand, and a 
 huge leather-bound book under his left 
 arm. 
 
 This extraordinary incident excited the 
 girl s curiosity to an overpowering degree. 
 Springing to her feet, she ran to the door 
 leading into the next room, crying: " Aunt 
 Aspasia! Aunt Aspasia! Do get up and 
 come here, quick! " 
 
 The elder woman, yielding to the influ- 
 186
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 ences of the day, had lain down for a long 
 nap. She immediately appeared, rubbing 
 her eyes and grumbling: What s the 
 matter, child ? Holy Mother! one would 
 think the house was surrounded by bri 
 gands, or that you had seen St. Spiridori s 
 ghost" 
 
 "Come to the window, quick! Such a 
 peculiar man! " 
 
 Aspasia did as she was bidden, but 
 Father Anthony, for the strange visitor 
 was none other, had disappeared among 
 the trees. 
 
 " And what was there so peculiar about 
 this man?" persisted the aunt, for being 
 suddenly aroused from sleep had made her 
 peevish. 
 
 " Oh, he was a monk, but such a monk! 
 Tall, slender, and young, with big, sad eyes, 
 and short, brown curls. He looked at me 
 in such a funny way, and then crossed him 
 self and hurried off as though I were a 
 
 ghost." 
 
 187
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 " Only a monk, eh?" growled Aspasia; 
 " it s encouraging, though, to have you take 
 an interest in any kind of a man, even in 
 one who wears a cassock." 
 
 188
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 AFTER leaving the monastery, Father 
 Anthony had crossed over to the 
 mainland, and gone southward along the 
 Argolic coast. His idea was to find some 
 lonely habitation, deserted hut, habitable 
 cavern, or, preferably, " little church of the 
 wilderness," where he might live in heroic 
 asceticism. 
 
 The loaf of bread which he had taken 
 with him had sufficed for three days, and 
 he had slept under trees. On the fourth 
 day, he had earned two drachmas working 
 in a harvest field, and the farmer had been 
 glad of an extra pair of hands, for labor 
 is scarce in Greece. With this money he 
 had bought two brown loaves, which he hid 
 away in his cassock, besides some olives, 
 and a little string of spicy garlic to keep 
 
 him healthy. He had, moreover, been told 
 
 189
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 of a tiny church which bade fair to serve 
 his purpose admirably. It was situated on a 
 rocky islet that lay off the extremity of one 
 of the long arms encircling Paraskeve s bay. 
 
 Thither was Father Anthony bound 
 when, stopping to ask for a glass of water, 
 he first saw Paraskeve looking up at him 
 with her big, soft eyes, her bare arms flash 
 ing over the loom in the sunlight. His 
 opinion of women we already know. That 
 opinion, confirmed by Father Demetrius s 
 case, and strengthened by long brooding, 
 had grown almost into a mania. As the 
 devil appeared to St. Anthony in the form 
 of a beautiful maiden, Father Anthony 
 believed every attractive woman to be a 
 physical manifestation of the evil one. 
 
 "Why is a woman beautiful?" he would 
 say to himself. "To distract holy men, and 
 to lead away their thoughts from pious 
 contemplation ; for no other reason, for 
 without beauty, she serves all good and 
 
 useful purposes." 
 
 190
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 With these reflections, and many more 
 in the same vein, did he strengthen his 
 mind as he continued on his way toward 
 the little church. Much to his disgust, 
 however, he found his soliloquy broken into 
 from time to time by involuntary paren 
 thetical exclamations. Do the best he 
 would to fix his attention on the subject in 
 hand, viz., the dangerous influence excited 
 by beautiful women upon the minds of 
 holy men, he could not help exclaiming 
 every now and then, " What white arms! " 
 "What white arms!" He had, of course, 
 taken in the whole picture of Paraskeve as 
 she sat there at the loom; but it was the 
 plump, white arms that kept flashing before 
 his eyes, and would not be argued away. 
 Perhaps, if he had first seen the maiden 
 with her jacket on, she would not have 
 caught his eye. On such small points do 
 our destinies turn. 
 
 About a week after his advent in the 
 
 neighborhood, Paraskeve heard of the young 
 191
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 priest again. In fact, the whole country 
 side by that time, had begun to talk of 
 him. 
 
 "Oh, aunty!" cried Paraskeve one day, 
 running into the house in great excitement. 
 "What do you think? I just saw Marigo 
 Kallispera on a donkey. She and her two 
 little brothers have been up to Drytown 
 (Sr^/ofc) to buy groceries. 
 
 "Well, well, what was there remarkable 
 about that?" 
 
 " Nothing, only the priest " 
 
 "What priest?" 
 
 "Why, the handsome young priest, who 
 stopped here a few days ago, and ran off 
 when he saw me, as though I had been a 
 ghost. Why, he s the holiest man that ever 
 came into these parts. He s living in the 
 little church on the island, all alone. He 
 worked two days for Marigo s father, help 
 ing in the vineyard. He looked so sad and 
 so handsome that Marigo went up and spoke 
 
 to him feeling sorry for him, you know. 
 192
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 But he went over to another end of the field 
 without saying a word. The next day, Mr. 
 Kallispera got Mrs. Stefanos and her daugh 
 ter to help, and the priest left. He told 
 Mr. Kallispera that he was a holy man, and 
 could not remain where there were so many 
 women around. Mr. Kallispera paid him 
 three drachmas. He said he ate nothing 
 but bread and water, and that he could live 
 for two weeks on three drachmas." 
 
 Aunt Aspasia crossed herself reverently. 
 
 " He is indeed a holy man," said she. 
 " May he bring much good fortune to the 
 neighborhood." 
 
 "Amen!" responded Paraskeve, fer 
 vently. " And he s so handsome, too. 
 Marigo says that all the girls are just crazy 
 about him." 
 
 "Silence, child!" cried Aunt Aspasia, in 
 horror. " How dare you speak thus about 
 a man of God? " 
 
 The discussion ceased here for the 
 time being, but neither of the women 
 
 193
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 could dismiss Father Anthony from her 
 mind. 
 
 That very evening, Aunt Aspasia, as 
 soon as she could slip off unobserved, walked 
 out to the little point, opposite the barren 
 rock on which stood the church. For some 
 time she stood concealed behind a crag, 
 watching, shading her eyes with her hand. 
 The sun was setting at the other side of the 
 sea, and the long pathway of glory that lay 
 on the waves blinded her. She saw not the 
 sunset. She was annoyed that the light got 
 into her eyes, and prevented her seeing the 
 man who could live on bread and water. 
 
 Soon the great disk slid between the sea s 
 edge and the sky, and the tiny church 
 stood out distinct and gray among the sad 
 waters of the sudden twilight. 
 
 Then Aunt Aspasia caught her breath in 
 wonder and admiration, for while she looked 
 the young monk emerged from the door, 
 carrying an earthen water jar in his hand. 
 
 How plainly she could see him across the 
 
 194
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 narrow strait! He stood alone in that light 
 which often comes at sea just after sunset, 
 and which is like the light of another world, 
 so soft it is, so mystical, so diaphanous. She 
 could see every line of his figure and fea 
 tures clearly, yet softly, outlined, as in a 
 perfect photograph. 
 
 He had no hat on, and his wavy, brown 
 hair, worn long, as is the custom among the 
 Greek priests, floated back on the wind and 
 left his high forehead bare. His features 
 were thin, and as he turned his face side- 
 wise toward her, they stood out against the 
 sky like the profile of some young saint 
 painted on a church screen. 
 
 With slow and deliberate steps did Father 
 Anthony descend to the edge of the rock, 
 as though pondering the destinies of man 
 kind. There was moored a little skiff, the 
 use of which he had obtained from Mr. 
 Kallispera. Into this he stepped and shoved 
 off. Aunt Aspasia gave vent to a smoth 
 ered scream, for as the unstable waves rose 
 195
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 between her eye and the boat s level, Father 
 Anthony seemed to be sitting on the sur 
 face of the water, paddling himself to land. 
 
 Satisfied at length that this was an opti 
 cal delusion, she crossed herself devoutly 
 and hurried home, unseen. 
 
 Father Anthony had come to land for 
 water, and the next night when he tied his 
 skiff to a rock, and started up the path 
 toward the brook, Aunt Aspasia slipped 
 from behind her crag, tiptoed to the water s 
 edge, and placed in the boat a loaf of bread, 
 half a dozen boiled eggs, a tumbler of or 
 ange preserves, and some beautiful grapes. 
 
 Then she stole back, muttering: " He 
 must not be worried with worldly cares. 
 He must have all his time for prayer and 
 meditation. Who knows? Perhaps he will 
 become so holy that he will be able to per 
 form miracles." 
 
 When Father Anthony returned to the 
 boat, he found the bread, the eggs, and the 
 
 delicacies, and much he wondered as he 
 
 196
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 held them in his hands and looked them 
 over. His eyes also sparkled, and he 
 smacked his lips, for he was very hungry. 
 
 Suddenly his manner changed, and he 
 cried in a loud, stern voice: "Get thee be 
 hind me, Satan! Dost thou think to tempt 
 me with offerings to my belly? Me, Father 
 Anthony, who have neither been terrified 
 by wild animals nor yielded to the seduc 
 tions of fair women? Thus, thus, do I scorn 
 thee!" 
 
 Saying which, he hurled Aunt Aspasia s 
 tumbler of delicious preserved oranges 
 against the face of the cliff, following it up 
 with the eggs and the grapes. He even 
 picked up the bread, but after a moment s 
 hesitation, put it back in the boat. 
 
 " St. Anthony," he said, "lived on bread 
 and water. By accepting this loaf, I shall 
 have more time for prayer. Thus shall I 
 beat the devil with his own weapons! " 
 
 Now, nothing is ever done by anybody in 
 
 Greece that is not seen or heard by some- 
 197
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 body else. So it chanced that two small 
 boys had followed Father Anthony to the 
 sea-shore, and were watching him from 
 behind a rock with bulging eyes and bated 
 breath. 
 
 They saw, heard, and told all. Thus 
 was the young priest s fame spread in all 
 the region thereabouts, and no less a man 
 than the demarch of Drytown came down 
 to look at the marks made on the face of 
 the cliff by Aunt Aspasia s boiled eggs and 
 orange preserves. And seeing, he crossed 
 himself, and cried: "This is, indeed, a holy 
 man!" 
 
 198
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 XIX. 
 
 I ^HE church in which Father Anthony 
 1 had taken up his abode was dedicated 
 to the " Holy Virgin, the Averter of Grass 
 hoppers." In former years the peaceful 
 region thereabout had been greatly devas 
 tated by grasshoppers. These pests had 
 come frequently in a cloud, stripping the 
 ground of the green barley and vegetables, 
 and denuding the trees and vines of their 
 leaves. 
 
 The simple country folk were almost 
 reduced to despair, when, one day, two 
 boys, who had swum over to the island, 
 found there an old, weather-worn picture of 
 the Virgin. They brought it to their home, 
 and their father, for the boys were brothers, 
 immediately mounted his donkey and rode 
 off to the pious village of Drytown. The 
 
 picture was deposited in the demarch s 
 199
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 office, and many came to see it. Finally, 
 an old woman, much respected for her 
 piety, and not a little feared for her knowl 
 edge of mysterious matters, declared that 
 the picture was a holy eikon; that it had 
 fallen from heaven, and that a church must 
 be builded on the spot where it had been 
 found. 
 
 As the grasshoppers had been particu 
 larly bad this year, the rumor soon spread 
 that the eikon was a sign that the Virgin 
 was about to listen to the many supplica 
 tions being addressed to her. A collection 
 was accordingly taken up, to which every 
 one, poor and rich, contributed. The little 
 church was builded and dedicated to the 
 "Holy Virgin, the Averter of Grasshop 
 pers," and the holy image was given the 
 place of honor on its walls. To this day, 
 the people of the region hold a religious 
 festival on the island every i5th of August, 
 and strange to say (or, perhaps, not strange, 
 who knows?), the grasshoppers have not
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 appeared in the vicinity of Drytown since 
 the building of the church. 
 
 Two or three days before the i5th, 
 immediately succeeding Father Anthony s 
 appearance in the neighborhood, Marigo 
 came over to see Paraskeve, and to relate 
 an important bit of news. 
 
 "What do you think? "said she; " Father 
 Yanni has asked the handsome young 
 hermit to assist in the vesper service next 
 week, and he has consented." 
 
 "Oh, won t that be glorious!" cried 
 Paraskeve; "we shall actually hear him 
 talk. I ll warrant he has a voice as sweet 
 as an angel s." 
 
 " I, for one," declared Marigo, " mean 
 to make him talk to me. I shall invite him 
 to eat from our basket, and shall offer him 
 wine and flowers; if he refuses all these 
 things, I shall speak to him about the state 
 of my soul. Once get the ice broken, and 
 he won t be such a bugaboo." 
 
 Paraskeve made no reply, but she felt 
 
 201
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 a flush of feeling run through her, different 
 from anything she had as yet known. It 
 was not exactly anger, and yet it made her 
 feel uncomfortable. She spoke up quite 
 sharply. 
 
 " I shall do nothing of the kind, myself. 
 It would n t be proper, and I think you 
 ought to be ashamed of yourself. Why, 
 he s a monk." 
 
 " I don t care what he is," pouted 
 Marigo; "a monk has no business to be so 
 handsome. The idea of his taking vows to 
 shun all the women in the world! I 11 give 
 him some shunning to do." 
 
 Marigo was a plump little girl, with a 
 round, brown face, and black, mischievous 
 eyes. 
 
 On the afternoon of the Hth, numerous 
 small boats were to be seen coasting along 
 the shores of the bay. Most of these were 
 filled with youths and maidens in gala 
 attire. In many were chairs and tables, 
 thrusting their legs in the air like unfortu- 
 
 202
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 nate quadrupeds laid on their backs. 
 Well-filled lunch baskets were stowed away 
 in the prows of all, and the two rival wine 
 dealers of Drytown brought along casks of 
 their best vintage. As each boat unloaded, 
 its occupants ran about in an excited man 
 ner, seeking to pre-empt the most favorable 
 locality for the placing of tables and chairs. 
 Soon several booths were erected for the 
 sale of sweetmeats, biscuits, and resin wine 
 at half a penny a glass. One enterprising 
 countryman had roasted a young pig on a 
 wooden spit, and had set it up by the side 
 of a tree, one end of the spit being stuck 
 firmly in the ground. The animal was 
 brown as a berry, and before its dissection 
 began, looked pathetically life-like. By 
 its side stood the merchant, a huge knife 
 in hand, ready to cut off chunks of any 
 desired magnitude. Right merrily, he 
 shouted: " Come on, boys! Come on, 
 heroes! It s loukoumi! It s a pullet! It s 
 
 a little partridge!" 
 
 203
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 Blankets were spread, too, at the top of 
 poles to keep off the night dews, for most 
 of the worshipers intended to make their 
 beds on the island, and to remain all night. 
 
 Father Anthony, assisted by the village 
 priest, had thoroughly swept the church 
 earlier in the day. Some of the first comers 
 decorated it with flowers, and hung a beau 
 tiful wreath of roses about the kind face of 
 the Virgin. 
 
 When Marigo arrived with her family, 
 the island was already covered with people. 
 As soon as she could find an opportunity, 
 she ran about among the crowd in search 
 of Father Anthony. The village priest, a 
 good, kindly soul, was eating a piece of 
 roast pig, and discussing a glass of wine 
 with some old-time friends. 
 
 " If he was only socially inclined now, 
 like that," sighed Marig6. 
 
 Finding him nowhere among the good- 
 natured throng, she peeped at last into the 
 
 church. There sat Father Anthony, pale, 
 204
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 stern, and devout, poring over the eve 
 ning s service. He looked so wrapped in 
 holy meditation that she drew back, as 
 though guilty of a sacrilege. Then she 
 noticed that no one else disturbed him, but 
 that others peeped in at the door furtively, 
 as though wishing to avoid the appearance 
 of obtrusion or curiosity. Occasionally 
 passers-by crossed themselves and mur 
 mured: "A saint has come to us." 
 
 Marig6 s courage deserted her. She 
 stamped her foot petulantly on the ground 
 and sighed: " What right has a saint to be 
 so young and beautiful, and have such 
 curly hair?" 
 
 Early in the evening the vespers began. 
 The candles were lighted, as well as the 
 tiny oil lamps under the sacred eikon. 
 The little church was packed with people, 
 and a devout throng crowded about the 
 door. As fast as* those within forced their 
 way out to get breath, others elbowed their 
 
 way in, and filled up the vacant places. 
 
 205
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 Hour after hour Father Anthony read the 
 liturgy, the people crossing themselves at 
 the appropriate passages. Occasionally he 
 swayed the censer to and fro, and then the 
 candles looked like stars on a misty night. 
 
 Hour after hour he chanted and prayed 
 on in the dim, incense-heavy light. His 
 powers of endurance seemed supernatural. 
 
 " It is a miracle," said those outside. 
 "He is a saint." 
 
 And during the entire service Paraskeve 
 stood in the front rank of the worshipers, 
 her great, soulful eyes fixed on Father An 
 thony s face. She was in gala attire, with 
 her most beautiful embroidered scarf tied 
 about her head. One long, heavy braid 
 fell down over her right shoulder. 
 
 When he first saw the eyes, Father An 
 thony gave a start and lost his place in the 
 sacred book. He soon found it again, but 
 it seemed as though two white arms were 
 stretched across the page. 
 
 This is a device of the devil," he 
 206
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 thought, and he combated the delusion 
 with all his power of will. If he fixed his 
 mind sharply on the meaning of the text, 
 the arms would fade entirely away. If he 
 relaxed his will power for a moment, they 
 took shape again dimly before his eyes, 
 transparent, so that he could see the lines 
 through them. If he allowed himself to 
 think, " How beautiful they are," they 
 flashed before him, pink, white, and round, 
 and he lost his place again. At such times 
 he would gasp: "St. Anthony, help me!" 
 and the people crossed themselves, saying 
 one to another: 
 
 " He is talking with the saints." 
 And then the eyes! He was conscious 
 they were fixed upon him all the time. No 
 matter how firmly he resolved not to look, 
 he found himself gazing into them every 
 moment. 
 
 "This is no woman," thought Father 
 Anthony; "this is indeed the evil one, try 
 ing to mock me in the ministration of the 
 207
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 Word, and to make a public shame of me 
 I will go on until my powers fail." 
 
 Father Yanni fell asleep on the chancel 
 steps and snored mightily, and Father An 
 thony read on and on, until the closeness 
 of the air, the incense, and weariness over 
 came him. Toward midnight a sudden 
 faintness seized him. The page became a 
 hopeless blur. Then the faces of the wor 
 shipers, the walls of the church, the whole 
 world melted together into a great night, 
 through which shone far and luminous the 
 starlike eyes of Paraskeve. 
 
 Great excitement prevailed. The young 
 saint had fainted. Perhaps he was dead. 
 Happily some one was present who knew 
 that he needed air, and he was carried out 
 of the church, and laid tenderly upon the 
 sand. The sea-breeze immediately revived 
 him, and he sat up, and looked around. 
 The first thing he beheld was the dark, 
 pert face of Marigo, who was bending over 
 
 him, offering him a glass of wine. 
 208
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 " Drink this, my father, do," she pleaded; 
 "it will do you good." 
 
 " Yes, drink it, father," chimed in the 
 by-standers; " the girl is right. It will brace 
 you up." 
 
 Father Anthony pushed the cup from 
 him. 
 
 "I do not drink wine," he said, "and I 
 seek no help from women." 
 
 For the moment he did not realize where 
 he was, until, glancing about the circle of 
 sympathetic faces, his gaze rested upon an 
 old man, holding aloft a pine torch. 
 
 It was Paraskeve s servant, and by his 
 side she stood, looking down upon him with 
 pitying eyes. Father Anthony rose to his 
 feet. 
 
 " Go back to. the church, friends," he 
 commanded. "The vespers will not be 
 finished till four o clock. I want to be 
 alone." 
 
 They obeyed him. Until nearly dawn 
 
 the services were continued by Father Yanni 
 209
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 in the little church, after which those who 
 were weary sought their rest, and the re 
 mainder passed the time until dawn singing 
 and talking. 
 
 During most of the next day the vil 
 lagers and country people remained on the 
 island, making merry. 
 
 Pigs and lambs were roasted on spits, 
 wine flowed free, and Grecian soil trembled 
 once more to the tread of the old Pyrrhic 
 dance. 
 
 Paraskeve, meanwhile, was conscious of 
 a vague feeling of shame and guilt, for what 
 reason she could not tell. She found herself 
 blushing when spoken to, and was in mortal 
 dread lest some one should ask her why. 
 
 Father Anthony did not appear during 
 the whole day, a fact which at first caused 
 much uneasiness. Some ungodly young 
 men, however, who came over on the morn 
 ing of the 1 5th, to talk with the girls and to 
 dance, found his boat safely tied to a rock 
 on the mainland. 
 
 2IO
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 It was therefore concluded by all that he 
 had gone to spend the day in solitude, doubt 
 less regarding participation in the merry 
 making as incompatible with his vows as a 
 hermit. 
 
 And so he had. But this did not pre 
 vent his lying flat on a crag on the main 
 land, from which point of vantage he looked 
 across a bit of sea, down upon the rocky 
 islet, where his church was situated. The 
 people seemed no bigger than rabbits, and 
 it was utterly impossible to distinguish one 
 from another. Yet Father Anthony con 
 tinued to gaze, and while he gazed he mut 
 tered. 
 
 " She is a devil," he said; " more danger 
 ous and more powerful than anything I have 
 as yet encountered. Oh, St. Anthony! help 
 me in this my hour of need. What beauti 
 ful eyes! What beautiful eyes! " 
 
 211
 
 The Tempting ot 
 
 XX. 
 
 OEVERAL days after the festival at 
 ^ the church, Marigo came again to 
 Paraskeve s house. 
 
 "Let s go over and see the handsome 
 monk," said she. 
 
 "What?" cried Paraskeve, scarcely cred 
 iting her ears. 
 
 " Oh, I ve thought out a good excuse for 
 going. We 11 ask the Virgin about our 
 lovers." 
 
 "But I haven t any lover!" said Paras 
 keve, emphatically. 
 
 "But what difference does that make? 
 It s only an excuse for going, in case any 
 body asks us." 
 
 "Besides," persisted Paraskeve, "the 
 girls never go to that Virgin for such a rea- 
 (son. They go to the one on the monastery 
 road." 
 
 212
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 "Well, what of that? The Virgin is the 
 Virgin. At any rate, I m going over to the 
 island, and I shall see Father Anthony. He 
 must be lonely enough to talk by this time. 
 If you won t go with me, I 11 take Christo 
 along." 
 
 Christo was the speaker s ten-year-old 
 brother. 
 
 " Wait a minute, I 11 come," said Paras- 
 keve, as Marig6 started down the path. 
 Snatching up a scarf for her head, she soon 
 overtook her friend. 
 
 " We must be back in an hour," she said. 
 " Aunt Aspasia has gone over to Father 
 Yanni s church with our offering of white 
 bread. She 11 be apt to stop and talk with 
 the priest s wife for awhile. If I get back 
 before she returns, she need n t know I ve 
 been gone at all." 
 
 Paraskeve found herself contemplating 
 deceit a circumstance so unusual with her 
 that she felt a sharp pang of remorse, and 
 
 stood still for a moment, half persuaded to 
 213
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 turn back. Then the thought struck her: 
 " Is it right to let this giddy girl visit the 
 young priest alone? Who knows what she 
 may say to him there, or about him after 
 ward? No, it is my duty to go." 
 
 Paraskeve, among her other possessions, 
 owned a very fine boat. It had been built 
 in Hydra, and was rather larger than an 
 ordinary cat-boat. There were locks for 
 three pairs of oars, besides a socket in front, 
 in which a short mast could be set, that held 
 a long yard fixed obliquely. The large, tri 
 angular sail was not, for the time being, in 
 use, as Aunt Aspasia had been dyeing it a 
 beautiful terra-cotta color with pine bark, 
 and it was not yet dry. 
 
 Paraskeve could manage this boat as 
 well as the best fisherman on the Mediter 
 ranean, an art which she had learned from 
 her father. 
 
 The girls were soon seated in the craft, 
 and each taking an oar, they pushed off for 
 
 214
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 the island. A very few moments brought 
 them to the landing place. 
 
 "He s here! he s here! " cried Marigo 
 in a tone of exultation. 
 
 There, indeed, was the monk s skiff 
 drawn up on a tiny bit of sand. The girls 
 pulled their own boat out beside it, and 
 walked briskly to the church, Marigo lead 
 ing the way. 
 
 Outside the door the latter cast her eyes 
 around. The hermit was nowhere in sight. 
 
 "He s inside," whispered Marigo, her 
 finger to her lips. " Let me manage. No 
 tice what I say." Then raising her voice, 
 so that the supposed inmate of the church 
 could hear, she continued: " Come inside, 
 Paraskeve, quick, while good Father An 
 thony is away. Let s ask the Virgin now, 
 while no one is near." 
 
 Stepping up to the sacred eikon, she 
 crossed herself. Then, kissing the picture 
 three times ostentatiously, she held a penny 
 
 215
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 against its face while she prayed: "Oh, 
 Holy Mother, tell me, does he love me or 
 does he not?" Taking her fingers from 
 the penny, it slid to the floor. Had it re 
 mained sticking to the picture, Marigo 
 would have felt herself sure of her lover s 
 affection. 
 
 "Oh, isn t that mean!" she exclaimed, 
 pursing her pretty lips into a pout. " Now, 
 Paraskeve, come and try your luck, quick, 
 before Father Anthony comes." 
 
 But Paraskeve steadily refused, on the 
 ground that she had no lover. 
 
 " Oh, you mean thing," suddenly cried 
 Marig6, and falling against the curtain she 
 recovered herself inside the sacristy. " Stop 
 pushing me!" 
 
 "I didn t push you," declared Paras 
 keve, angrily; "what do you mean by telling 
 such a falsehood ? " 
 
 " Well, you need n t get so angry about 
 it. He is n t in there, anyway. Where in 
 
 the world can he be? What can have hap- 
 
 216
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 pened to him? Maybe he s fallen off a 
 rock and got drowned." 
 
 Startled by this reflection the two girls 
 ran around the entire circumference of the 
 island, but nothing of Father Anthony 
 could they see. Marig6 even raised her 
 voice and called his name shrilly, but the 
 sound floated away over the heaving waters, 
 and no answer came back. Then they sat 
 down on a cliff, with their feet hanging 
 over, and put their arms around each oth 
 er s waists. 
 
 "He s gone away," said Paraskeve. 
 
 " No, his boat would not be here then," 
 replied Marigo. " He has fallen into the 
 sea and been drowned. Perhaps from this 
 very cliff." 
 
 They both bent forward and looked 
 timidly down. The cliff was very high and 
 stern, and the waves were piling white 
 foam at its feet. They seemed like playful 
 babes toddling up to the knees of some 
 
 dreadful warrior with their hands full of 
 217
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 lilies. The girls buried their faces each in 
 the other s shoulder and wept. 
 
 On their way back to the boat Paras- 
 keve stopped and held up a forefinger. 
 Both listened. A man s voice could be 
 heard, faint and far off, in continuous dis 
 course of some kind. They moved again 
 to the edge of the island, and were left in 
 doubt no longer. They could not distin 
 guish words, but Father Anthony was some 
 where praying. But where? For no sign 
 of him could they see. 
 
 " Holy Virgin, help us! " gasped Marigo. 
 " He is indeed drowned, and that is his 
 ghost. Come away quickly. If we see him 
 we are both dead women," and she hurried 
 to the boat, threw herself flat upon her 
 face, and covered her head with her cloak. 
 
 " I will find him," muttered Paraskeve; 
 " I will save him. He is down there in the 
 sea. Even if he is dead, I would rather 
 see his ghost than any other man alive." 
 
 She fluttered along the edge of the cliff 
 218
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 like a bird. She came to a place where 
 descent was possible to a narrow shelf by 
 the sea s edge. Along this she tiptoed, 
 holding on to the stunted shrubs. Where 
 the shelf ended, a transverse wall rose be 
 fore her, pierced by a narrow tunnel. She 
 fell upon her hands and knees, and crawled 
 through. When she arose, she found her 
 self upon a bit of white sand, in a recess 
 which the waves had hollowed out in the 
 base of the cliff. Before her knelt Father 
 Anthony, praying frantically. 
 
 Seeing Paraskeve, he sprang to his feet 
 and shrank back against the rocks with one 
 hand thrown out before him, as if warding 
 off some great danger. 
 
 "Avaunt!" he cried; " for now I know 
 thee for what thou art. Thy great, sweet 
 eyes, and thy beautiful white arms have 
 been in my mind night and day, driving 
 out holy contemplation. Those eyes have 
 waked me up at night, shining in the room 
 
 like morning stars. And I said: It s not 
 219
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 a devil; they are so soft, so tender. But 
 now as thou hast even followed me here, I 
 know that thou art indeed a devil." 
 
 Suddenly he stepped forward and fell 
 again upon his knees. 
 
 " Go away, sweet devil," he prayed. 
 " Hadst thou even come in such a form to 
 my master, St. Anthony, he could not have 
 resisted thee. Go away, thou art too beau 
 tiful. I am not worthy to be tempted by 
 such divine loveliness. Alas! I am no 
 saint! I am only poor Anastasi of Damala. 
 Go away! Go away! " 
 
 Paraskeve s eyes filled with tears. She 
 made no reply, but turned about and van 
 ished as she had come. 
 
 Paraskeve arrived at the house again 
 before her aunt s return. Without remov 
 ing the scarf from her head, she went to a 
 little mirror in her bedroom, and looked at 
 her reflection long and earnestly. 
 
 " Poor man! " she sighed, at last; "poor 
 man! I was never loved like that before. 
 
 220
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 What shall I do? He seems to be going 
 crazy for me! " Then she looked in the 
 glass again. 
 
 " My eyes are not bad," she said. 
 
 231
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 XXI. 
 
 FEATHER ANTHONY found little re 
 lief in prayer. His only salvation 
 was to forget the beautiful devil, but the 
 more he prayed, the more vividly did her 
 image present itself before his excited 
 mind. After two or three sleepless nights 
 and as many days of vain misery, he made 
 the heroic resolve to quit the scene of his 
 temptation forever. 
 
 "It is cowardly," he said, "but I would 
 rather fly from the devil than yield to him." 
 
 Accordingly, he tied his few possessions, 
 including half a loaf of bread, into a blanket 
 which he had recently acquired, and depos 
 ited the bundle in the skiff along with the 
 precious " Lives of the Saints." Landing, 
 he slung his blanket over his shoulder, took 
 the book under his arm, and started reso 
 lutely down the curving sea beach, in the 
 
 222
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 direction away from Paraskeve s house. 
 Occasionally, as he looked back, he could 
 see it on the hillside, white, nestling among 
 the trees. At other times the dense foliage 
 or a crag hid it from view. Father Anthony 
 walked with his head bent down and his 
 lips moving. At last he passed behind a 
 pile of rocks that shut out entirely from his 
 view the house and the peaceful valley. If 
 he continued in that direction, he would 
 never see them more. 
 
 On the morning of the same day, Paras- 
 keve had gone far up the hillside to look 
 for two baby kids which a shepherd had 
 told her of. There had been rain during 
 the night, a rather extraordinary occurrence 
 at that season, and she feared that the kids 
 might chill through and die for want of 
 attention. She found them long-legged, 
 big-jointed, and silken-eared. One was quite 
 lively, bunting at the dugs and wiggling its 
 stumpy tail most gleefully. The other was 
 
 lying upon the ground, shivering. Occa- 
 
 223
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 sionally it staggered to its feet, then sank 
 down again, saying " mama," precisely like 
 a sick child. The old goat looked at it with 
 big, frightened eyes. When she saw her 
 mistress, she gave evidences of the greatest 
 joy, and greeted her with nervous, thankful 
 bleatings. Paraskeve placed the poor little 
 kid under her cloak, and pressed it affec 
 tionately to her bosom. She cooed over it 
 as though it were a baby. 
 
 "Coo! coo! coo! "she said. "Don t be 
 afraid, poor thing! How its little heart 
 beats. Be still, little heart! Paraskeve 
 won t hurt it. Don t be afraid. Coo! coo! 
 coo!" 
 
 Only its head protruded from the cloak, 
 the long, silken ears flapping about the thin 
 face and big, sad eyes. Then she took the 
 other kid under her right arm, and started 
 for home, the mother goat following con 
 tentedly, bleating occasionally in tones which 
 expressed the most perfect confidence. Thus 
 
 Paraskeve picked her way along the moun- 
 224
 
 Stepping safely from rock to rock.
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 tain path, talking to her charges as she went. 
 There was no danger of her falling, for she 
 was as neat of ankle and sure of foot as a 
 gazelle. Thus she crossed the noisy stream 
 high up, stepping safely from rock to rock, 
 and at last she came into an open field back 
 of her house. 
 
 Here Father Anthony, hidden among 
 the rushes that grew beside the stream, saw 
 her, for he had come back to take one more 
 look before leaving the region forever. And 
 when he saw her, a sudden faintness seized 
 him, and the world began to reel. He 
 pressed one hand to his heart and steadied 
 himself by seizing the limb of a tree. 
 
 Now it happened that Farmer Petropou- 
 los s black bull, a sturdy and fierce little ani 
 mal that had been lost for several days, at 
 that very moment stepped out from the 
 olive trees skirting the open field, and looked 
 about him. Paraskeve instantly caught sight 
 of the animal and commenced to run, clutch 
 ing the kids convulsively, as though they 
 225
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 were the real objects in danger. As she 
 quickened her pace, the wind unwound from 
 her head the long scarf, which on this par 
 ticular occasion happened to be red, and 
 one end of it catching to a coral ornament 
 in her hair, it floated out behind like a 
 streamer. The bull accepted this as a per 
 sonal challenge, and lowering his head, he 
 bounded after the fleeing girl. For a mo 
 ment she held on to the kids, too confused 
 and frightened to know what to do. Then 
 her country common sense came to her res 
 cue, and dropping the little animals, she 
 darted behind a large oak tree that grew in 
 the center of the opening. She was not a 
 moment too soon, for almost immediately 
 the bull dashed past her, unable to over 
 come the momentum of his rush. Turning, 
 he charged again, and Paraskeve dodged a 
 second time. The girl was in the most immi 
 nent peril. It seemed that, left to her own 
 resources, she must surely be killed. A 
 happy thought gave her a moment s respite. 
 
 226
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 Jerking the red scarf loose from her head, 
 she cast it from her. It sailed off for a little 
 distance on the wind, and the mad animal 
 flew after it. While he was stamping the 
 scarf beneath his feet, and goring at it in 
 vain, Paraskeve stepped from behind the 
 tree, thinking to make a dash for the house. 
 She had, in fact, stolen a few steps on tip 
 toe, fists doubled, head bent forward, eyes 
 almost starting from their sockets, when the 
 bull caught sight of her and again rushed at 
 her. Father Anthony gazed at the com 
 mencement of this strange scene in a sort 
 of stupor, then of a sudden all the manhood 
 in him awoke. 
 
 " Devil or no devil, I must save her! " he 
 cried, and plunged into the stream, on the 
 farther side of which he had been standing. 
 The water was up to his knees, and he 
 stumbled about among the rocks, dropping 
 his precious " Lives of the Saints" without 
 a thought as to its fate. Up the bank he 
 
 scrambled, and in a few long strides he 
 227
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 reached the tree just as the bull had com 
 menced to circle around it with more me 
 thodical and deadly intent. Throwing 
 himself upon the animal, he seized it by 
 the horns, and shouted to Paraskeve, 
 " Run, now. Run for your life! " 
 
 The girl waited for no second command, 
 but scurried toward the house like a fright 
 ened rabbit. 
 
 And now transpired one of those scenes 
 which prove how closely the sublime is allied 
 to the ridiculous. Father Anthony could no 
 more hold the bull than he could have 
 hurled a Jovian thunderbolt. He did suc 
 ceed for several seconds in retaining his 
 grasp of the horns, and during that space 
 of time he was flourished about in the air 
 very much like a feather duster in the hands 
 of a housemaid. His long robe, meanwhile, 
 caught in a shrub, and was torn partly off, 
 revealing a pair of light trousers of the 
 pattern known as "check." 
 
 Near the tree was a deep, narrow gully, 
 228
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 through which in winter-time a swift brook 
 ran into the larger stream. This gully saved 
 Father Anthony s life, for he was soon lying 
 on his back at the bottom of it, senseless, 
 with two ribs broken. 
 
 The bull, completely puzzled by the dis 
 appearance of both his victims, pawed the 
 ground for a short while in impotent rage, 
 and finally disappeared among the olive 
 trees. 
 
 229
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 XXII. 
 
 A UNT ASPASIA and Paraskeve lifted 
 ** the unfortunate hermit from the 
 gully, and bore him to the house. Here 
 he was put tenderly to bed, and everything 
 within the power of rustic knowledge was 
 done for him. The extent of his injuries 
 was not known, however, till the next 
 morning, when the man of all work, 
 who had been dispatched to Spetsai in 
 the boat, arrived from there with a young 
 doctor. 
 
 This limb of science, who had graduated 
 at the excellent University of Athens, and 
 afterward at Berlin, pronounced Father 
 Anthony s wound serious, but not neces 
 sarily fatal. 
 
 "He is not," he said, "injured inter 
 nally." 
 
 The two ribs were skillfully bandaged,
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 minute directions were given as to the care 
 of the patient, and the doctor left, with in 
 structions that he was to be sent for again 
 within two days. 
 
 Aunt Aspasia, who was a prudent soul, 
 although kind-hearted, was somewhat terri 
 fied at the expense thus incurred. She sug 
 gested that the doctor might be sent for, if 
 needed. But Paraskeve resented this inter 
 ference with an asperity unusual to her 
 nature. 
 
 "The doctor shall remain here for a 
 week, if necessary," she said. " Why, I owe 
 my life to Father Anthony." 
 
 The hermit improved slowly, but surely, 
 despite the numerous herb drinks which 
 Aunt Aspasia forced down his throat. There 
 are no women in the world equal to those 
 of Greece in zeal for concocting herb teas. 
 If any plant tastes or smells especially nasty, 
 the Greek housewife says: This must 
 have medicinal properties," and immedi 
 ately she lays in a stock of it as a provision 
 231
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 against the first case of sickness that may 
 break out in her family. 
 
 Paraskeve nursed Father Anthony with 
 the greatest assiduity and tenderness, but 
 rarely spoke to him. The scene on the 
 island was too vividly fixed in her mind, 
 and she was afraid that he might by voice 
 or look betray the state of his feelings to 
 her aunt. How wide awake that lady was 
 in finding out other people s secrets, the girl 
 knew by long observation. The language 
 of eyes, however, is not easily suppressed. 
 Often, when Paraskeve glanced shyly at the 
 young hermit, she found him looking at her 
 in a way that frightened her. The white 
 ness of his thin, classical face, drawn as it 
 was with pain, was intensified by the dark 
 brown curls that clustered thickly about his 
 forehead. This very pallidness of counte 
 nance made his eyes seem larger than their 
 wont, and there was in them a mingling of 
 despair and passion, a mixture of fire and 
 darkness, like the flashing of lightning on a 
 332
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 stormy night. He looked at Paraskeve as 
 a condemned man gazes at the sky for the 
 last time. 
 
 The girl was within his sight or hearing 
 most of the day, for his bed had been made 
 up in the principal room of the house. Very 
 beautiful and good she looked in all the 
 humble employments of her life: whether 
 sitting in the door making embroidery, pre 
 paring vegetables for the evening meal, or 
 passing the door from time to time as she 
 walked up and down the porch with her 
 long, forked distaff fixed to her waist. 
 Sometimes she sat in the middle of the 
 floor, bare-armed, feeding with a spoon the 
 delicate kid that she had gone to seek on 
 that memorable day. At such times the 
 mother goat looked in at the door, bleating 
 softly, with a look of inscrutable wisdom on 
 her ancient, bewhiskered face an expres 
 sion which none but the animal sacred to 
 the tragic muse ever attains. The baby kid 
 soon grew stronger, and then so affectionate 
 233
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 did the goat family become that Paraskeve 
 was forced to tether the mother at a dis 
 tance from the house, in hopes that her off 
 spring would remain there with her. The 
 device, however, was of no avail, so far as 
 the rescued kid was concerned. The mo 
 ment it saw its mistress it came bounding 
 to her. Often it bleated at the door in the 
 morning till she appeared, and it followed 
 her about like a dog all day. 
 
 One afternoon when the ribs were nearly 
 well, but while Father Anthony was still 
 very weak, Aunt Aspasia was obliged to 
 leave the house for several hours to super 
 intend the gathering of the quinces on two 
 very choice trees. Paraskeve was sitting 
 at the loom singing in a low voice exactly 
 as she had been when the young hermit 
 first saw her. She had been thus engaged 
 for an hour or so, when she was startled by 
 hearing Father Anthony call: " Paraskeve! 
 Paraskeve! " 
 
 It was the first time he had ever spoken 
 234
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 her name, and she arose and went over to 
 him, trembling like a leaf. 
 
 "Where s my book?" he said; "my 
 Lives of the Saints ? " 
 
 "We didn t find any book. Did you 
 have a book with you? " 
 
 Yes; my life of St. Anthony. I must 
 have dropped it in the river that day when 
 when " 
 
 " When you saved my life," concluded 
 Paraskeve. Father Anthony s eyes filled 
 with tears, and his face distorted like that 
 of a child about to cry. Paraskeve impul 
 sively took him in her white arms as she 
 had taken the little kid, and his curly head 
 fell upon her bosom. He returned the 
 embrace convulsively, and they kissed 
 each other again and again. 
 
 When Aunt Aspasia returned, Paraskeve 
 was sitting at the loom, singing a sweet 
 love-song of Hydra. 
 
 235
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 f I ^HE next morning Father Anthony was 
 A gone, much to the genuine dismay 
 of both Paraskeve and her aunt. The 
 latter, accompanied by the faithful man, 
 went over to the island and found the her 
 mit again installed in the church. 
 
 " He says he is all right now," reported 
 the older woman on her return, "and that 
 there is no reason why he should trouble us 
 longer. That he is a hermit and it is not 
 right for him to live in a house, when he is 
 able to stay in the wilderness. He thanked 
 us all, and bade me say good-bye to you, 
 as he is going to leave the neighborhood 
 to-morrow. He is going to a lonelier place. 
 God save him!" she ejaculated, crossing 
 herself, " he is the greatest saint that ever 
 lived." 
 
 If Aunt Aspasia had watched her niece s 
 236
 
 face closely from that time forth she would 
 have observed there an unusual expression: 
 a look of fixed determination and of exalta 
 tion, as of one who has passed some mental 
 rubicon, who has made up his mind to take 
 some great and decisive step at all hazards. 
 Every female of the human race is a born 
 plotter, no matter how innocently she may 
 have been reared. So skillfully did Paras- 
 keve carry out her determination that she 
 managed to send her aunt off the very next 
 morning to Drytown, in charge of the man, 
 without exciting the least suspicion in the 
 breasts of either. The fall quinces were 
 waiting to be put up, and the supply of 
 sugar and other necessaries must be bought. 
 Beside, Aunt Aspasia had not seen her 
 bosom friend, the priest s wife, in over a 
 month, and there was a great accumulation 
 of gossip to be exchanged. 
 
 As soon as the two were gone, Paras- 
 keve flew about as though she had but an 
 hour in which to do the work of a lifetime. 
 237
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 She carried the boat s yard down, and tied 
 it firmly to the mast. She fastened the 
 three-cornered sail and gathered it neatly 
 at the top of the yard. Returning to the 
 house, she brought thence food and two 
 big earthen jars for water. She also emp 
 tied all her dowry finery upon the floor, 
 and dragged the heavy trunk to the boat, 
 where she stowed it safely away in the 
 prow. The contents followed, transported 
 by armfuls, and were repacked. The Turk 
 ish gold coins tinkled like fairy bells on the 
 garments which they adorned. 
 
 Among the other contents of the chest was 
 a bag of gold and silver coins, the savings of 
 Paraskeve s father. She left a few of these 
 in one of Aunt Aspasia s everyday stock 
 ings, for immediate needs. 
 
 " I leave her the house and farm," mut 
 tered Paraskeve; "she ll never come to 
 want. Dear old Aunt Aspasia! But I 
 must n t think." 
 
 This latter reflection was inspired by a 
 338
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 large tear which fell with unexpected 
 plash upon the shapely hand. 
 
 Paraskeve s father had been a prudent 
 man, and had never touched the dowry 
 which he had received with his wife. His 
 daughter s portion included these coins, 
 and the good man s savings of twenty years, 
 amounting in all to over twenty thousand 
 drachmas. 
 
 But the girl took away one thing with 
 her which she prized more than money, 
 and that was the holy eikon, or picture 
 of the Virgin Mary, before which she 
 had said her prayers daily from earliest 
 childhood. 
 
 Before this she stood and prayed fer 
 vently for a few moments, that the dear 
 Virgin would forgive her and protect her 
 and would take care of Aunt Aspasia. 
 Then she kissed the picture three times, 
 and bade it good-bye with streaming eyes. 
 But she turned back again, sobbing: " No, 
 no! I cannot leave it. I shouldn t be safe 
 239
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 without it a single day. I am going away 
 from the dear old home forever. Perhaps 
 another house will not seem so strange if I 
 see our Virgin hanging on the wall." 
 
 She took the picture down reverently, 
 wrapped it in an apron, and carried it to 
 the trunk. Before shoving off the prow 
 of the boat she crossed herself with great 
 solemnity. At this instant she heard the 
 excited bleating of a kid, and her little 
 pet came bounding down the path to her. 
 
 " Paraskeve would n t leave it behind," 
 she said, as she picked the animal up and 
 put it in the boat. "No, she wouldn t. 
 Coo! coo! coo!" 
 
 Finally she shoved clear with one of the 
 oars, opened the latteen sail, and flitted 
 over to the island. 
 
 When Aunt Aspasia was nearing home 
 on her return from Drytown, the sun was 
 about half way down the sky, and the 
 long shadows of herself and the donkey, 
 
 and of the man trotting beside, slid along 
 240
 
 Burning in the level rays of the sun was a terra cotta sail.
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 before her over the dusty road. The yel 
 low sunlight sifted among the pine trees 
 like a fine dust, and the tips of the dis 
 tant mountains were touched with gold. 
 Shortly before the path turned down into 
 the familiar little valley, it followed for 
 awhile the edge of the cliff. Here the 
 open sea suddenly broke upon the view, 
 infinitely trembling in the soft light. A 
 long trail of glory fell across the water, 
 a golden road leading from the setting 
 sun. It stretched between two little islands 
 almost on the rim of the world, and there, 
 leaning low in the fresh breeze, and burn 
 ing in the level rays of the sun was a 
 terra-cotta sail. Aunt Aspasia shaded her 
 eyes with her hand: "Dear me, Spiro," 
 said she, " that looks like our boat, 
 doesn t it?" 
 
 "Bah! bah! bah! " replied Spiro. 
 
 " Oh, of course, it could n t be," said 
 Aunt Aspasia. 
 
 241
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 beautiful spring day, a short, 
 fat, prosperous looking young man 
 walked briskly along one of the principal 
 streets of Nauplia. He was a very self- 
 satisfied young man to all appearances, 
 and everything about him gave the im 
 pression of roundness and completeness. 
 His face was ruddy and round, his stomach 
 was round, and he wore a little round hat 
 upon his head. In addition, his clothing 
 was fresh and new, and his boots were 
 highly polished. 
 
 This young man was evidently a stran 
 ger in Nauplia, for he looked at every 
 thing with the greatest curiosity. Occa 
 sionally, when a new object of interest 
 broke upon his view, he paused and gazed 
 at it for several minutes with mouth wide 
 
 open, as though he had eyes in his throat. 
 242
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 Nor did he use his mouth only as a silent 
 adjunct to the organs of sight. He fre 
 quently stopped passers-by with that air 
 of bonhomie which only fat men acquire 
 in greatest perfection, and asked for in 
 formation. Thus he was shown the gloomy 
 fortress of Palamidi, with the flight of eight 
 hundred and seventy - five steps leading 
 up to it; the island in the bay, where 
 the public executioner is kept guarded 
 lest the relatives of the condemned man 
 should murder him; the church where 
 Capodistrias was killed, and many other 
 things for which the beautiful town is 
 famous. 
 
 Now it happened that during his ramble 
 he found himself by accident, or perhaps 
 by instinct, before a wine shop of ex 
 tremely neat appearance. In a small, square 
 yard were half a dozen tables flanked by 
 chairs. The door was shaded by a grape 
 arbor, invitingly green, and within could 
 be seen several rows of barrels, whose 
 243
 
 The Tempting of 
 
 enormous size promised unlimited refresh 
 ment. 
 
 A man, evidently the proprietor, sat un 
 der the arbor, smoking a narghile. This 
 man was an extremely handsome speci 
 men of the best type of Greek. His fea 
 tures were classical in outline, and his 
 head was crowned with a mass of short, 
 brown curls. His cheeks were ruddy, and 
 his eyes shone with health and content. 
 As the stranger looked, a little girl of ex 
 traordinary beauty burst from the house 
 and ran laughing to the man s knee. He 
 took her upon his lap, and trotting her 
 up and down chuckled affectionately. The 
 stranger opened the gate, and walking 
 briskly up to the father and child gazed 
 at them intently. The little girl, embar 
 rassed and somewhat frightened, slid down 
 and ran into the house. The father rose 
 and returned the stare. 
 
 " It is Anastasi! " finally said the stran 
 ger. 
 
 244
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 " Kotsas! " cried the girl s father, and the 
 men embraced and kissed each other. 
 
 " I m here on my wedding trip," volubly 
 explained the demarch s son, seating him 
 self at the table. " I ve married a beauti 
 ful girl, 10,000 drachmas dowry. She s at 
 the hotel too tired to come out. But tell 
 me all about yourself. How in the name of 
 all the saints do I find you here? Is this 
 your place?" 
 
 "Slowly, slowly," said Anastasi. "Wait 
 till I bring a bottle of my oldest wine, some 
 thing exceptional, in honor of the occasion." 
 
 The wine was brought, and opened with 
 a long explanation of its history and merits. 
 
 " But I m dying to hear what has become 
 of you all these years. What have you been 
 doing since you left the monastery?" inter 
 rupted Kotsas, at last. 
 
 "How s my father?" 
 
 "Oh, he s well. A little old, of course, 
 but enjoying life. Perikles is the priest now 
 married to little Katina Poulios, and got 
 245
 
 Father Anthony 
 
 one child a boy. But I 11 tell you all this 
 afterward. First let s hear about yourself." 
 
 "And my mother, the dear old lady?" 
 
 "Still in good health, and seemingly as 
 young as ever. But, good heavens, my 
 brother! don t play with me this way. How 
 about St. Anthony and the devils, and all 
 that?" 
 
 Anastasi held up his wine-glass to the 
 sun and looked through it critically for a 
 few moments. 
 
 " Well, you see," he said at last, very 
 slowly, " it was only the devil that tempted 
 St. Anthony after all. I was tempted by a 
 real woman! " 
 
 At that moment Paraskeve came and 
 stood in the door, holding a chubby baby in 
 her arms. She was more beautiful than ever. 
 
 Kotsas sprang to his feet, and removing 
 his hat, made a low bow. "Ah!" he said, 
 under his breath. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 246
 
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