# Popular Tales and Romances of the Northern Nations/Volume 2/The Magic Dollar

Translation of "Der Heckthaler" from Legenden, Volkssagen, Gespenster- und Zaubergeschichten volume 2 (1817).
THE
MAGIC DOLLAR.
ACCOMPANIED by the venerable father Jacob, an aged franciscan monk of the bare-footed order, Eppo von Steinanger, entered the cell of the prison where lay Gregory the outlaw, late the terror of all the Polish frontiers. Numerous were the acts of barbarity, violence, rapine and sacrilege which he had committed, so that his very name struck terror all around; yet his early years had been far from announcing such a character; for, born of honest and pious parents, he had been trained up by them for the church, of which he promised, at one time, to become a shining ornament. How grievously then did his present abandoned state afflict father Jacob, the affectionate preceptor who ​first instilled into his dawning mind those lessons of virtue, which he now appeared to have rejected for ever.
Sad was the change which vice had written even on his outward form: instead of the ingenuous candour and amiable meekness which once used to sit upon his brow,—instead of the cheerful serenity which formerly beamed over his countenance, his beautiful features were marked with insolent scorn and pride, with sullenness and malignancy. Each hideous passion had left a trace so deep as legibly to indicate the violence with which they had swayed. The unclean spirit lurking within had defiled and polluted the once fair and goodly shrine.
“Why,” exclaimed he to his visitors, as they entered the cell, “why come ye hither to torment me? Bring the torture, and I will endure it. I shrink not even from the rack: but I want no cowled monk to preach to me,—no frocked confessor to weary me with his hateful homilies. What! think ye because I am in your power that I will therefore betray my brave companions, and denounce them to your ven​geance? No: not all the tortures ye may wreak upon this frame shall so far debase me.’
“Alas! my son,” replied the monk, in a tone that bespoke his anguish, “dost thou not know the ancient friend of thy father—thy own friend? Dost thou not recognize this crucifix of pure silver, worked by thy father’s hands? It was that which he made as a votive offering when thou once layest dangerously ill. Well do I remember, when, accompanied by thy worthy, pious mother, thou broughtest it thyself into the church: and, kneeling devoutly before the high altar, presentedst it to the Most High. And now, my son, how do I behold thee?”
The prisoner seemed affected by the old man’s tenderness, and by the contrast he had drawn of his present and his former situation. “Those days of happiness,” said he mournfully, “are now gone—gone for ever.”
“Dost thou not remember,” continued Jacob, hoping to touch him still more:—“Dost thou not remember how, when a little one, thou wast delighted to listen, while I spoke to thee of youthful angels, whose charge it is to watch over pious children? Dost thou not recollect ​the eager delight with which thou wert wont to receive the pictures of saints, which I bestowed upon thee for diligence in thy tasks;—or the reverential awe with which thou wouldst contemplate them? How attentively too didst thou use to listen to holy legends and tales of martyrdom, and declare that all thy strivings should be to imitate such sublime and touching examples of patience and fortitude in the cause of faith, and to devote thyself, body and soul, to the service of God, and to minister at his altar!”
“Enough! enough!” exclaimed Gregory, passionately striding with hurried pace as far as his fetters would permit, “I did promise,—nay did mean all this: what then? man is the sport of destiny; the very slave of circumstances. He is surrounded by invisible agencies over whom he possesses no controul:—he is a wretch, dragged on by the iron chain of fate, without the power of making any resistance.”
Despair and fury were depicted on his countenance: vain were all friendly exhortations, for he either preserved a morose silence, or uttered horrible imprecations and blasphemies. ​Jacob, therefore, gave orders that a small table should be brought into the cell; then placing on it two silver candlesticks with consecrated tapers, and the silver crucifix between them, he and his companion took their leave; charging the gaoler to light the tapers shortly before midnight, and to extinguish them after the expiration of an hour. The turnkey failed not to observe these orders most punctually; but, as he approached the cell for the purpose of lighting the candles, he heard a voice discoursing with the prisoner. Listening, therefore, in order to catch the words, he heard it say, in a hollow, dismal tone: “Here is the parchment, and the iron pen; scratch thy left hand with the latter, and then, with the blood, sign thy name. After that remove the crucifix, and I will deliver thee.”
“But how,” enquired Gregory, “may I do so?”
“Dash it on the floor, trample on both that and the tapers: pronounce a curse upon them. But, unless they be removed hence, I have no power to aid thee.”
​“Say rather to destroy me, impotent spirit! and shall I then confide in the might of one who trembles at this image! In the name of him whom it represents, I bid thee hence. Away, thou betrayer, that lurkest for my soul.”
Hereupon a loud crash was heard; the prison seemed to totter from its very foundations, while the affrighted gaoler crossed himself devoutly, and, in a few moments, all again was still. He now ventured to open the door of the cell, and, repeating a prayer the whole time, approached the table and lit the tapers. As soon as he had done so he perceived both the parchment and iron pen: “Take them both,” said Gregory, “in the morning to father Jacob and request him to come hither, that I may speak with him.”
Hardly daring to touch either parchment or pen, he placed them on the table and departed. After an hour had elapsed, he returned, in order to extinguish the tapers, when he found Gregory devoutly praying before the crucifix. Jacob, on being informed the next morning of the prisoner’s request, hastened immediately to ​visit him. He found him quite altered from what he had been the preceding day, for Gregory now saluted him kindly, and soon afterwards entreated, that he would peruse the fatal parchment.
The horrible writing contained an abjuration of the Almighty, couched in monstrous imprecations; and whoever signed it with his blood, surrendered himself up, both body and soul, to the prince of darkness, on condition that the latter should release him from his prison, and provide him for the space of one year, with all that the most unbounded wishes could demand.
“How! but for a year?” exclaimed Gregory. “Lying spirit of perdition, he offered me sixty years of uninterrupted prosperity:—but praised be God, who lent me grace to reject the offer.”
He now joined earnestly in prayer with the holy man; listened attentively to his exhortations; and, questioned by him as to the manner in which he had fallen into his profligate and dissolute courses, made him the following confession:
“It needs not, venerable father, that I relate ​to you, the history of my childhood and earlier youth, those days when I was alike innocent and happy—with those you are already acquainted. You taught me to strive after wisdom and piety:—ambition prompted me to aspire after both in the utmost degree; and to render myself thereby noted to all. And this pride was the first step towards my undoing, for it destroyed all humility, and induced an overweening self-confidence. In my own heart, I considered myself far better than any of those around me: under the mask of a profound humility, I indulged the most flattering vanity and self-delusion. I had now attained my eighteenth year, when my mother requested of me, on her death-bed, that I would dedicate myself to the church. With this wish, I readily complied, for I already, not only anticipated the mitre and crozier, as the due meed of my superior sanctity, but even saw my brow adorned with the celestial nimbus, and myself enrolled among the saints of our faith. Every one was deceived by my seeming humility and real fervour.
“About this period, my progress in Latin in​duced father Hilarius, my teacher, to put into my hands, the poets in that language. Not contented, however, with my study of Prudentius, Boethius, and the christian poets, he recommended to my attention, others less devotional, although more classic; amongst whom, the amatory ones, were not the least prominent. These latter became, in a short time, my favourite study, and the constant companions of my solitary walks. Need I say, that I felt the influence of the literature in which I now indulged. Passions and desires, hitherto totally unknown to me, now took possession of my bosom; quenched my aspirings after holier pursuits; and induced a fatal supineness, to which I, at length, wholly resigned myself. As I was one evening returning from my accustomed walk, I was met by my kinsman Gerard and his betrothed, nor could I avoid being struck with the affection which they manifested towards each other, but the odious passion envy entered my heart, and I felt a disquietude strange and oppressive.
“And this bliss, exclaimed I to myself, is denied to me. For me there must be no bride, no ​wife, no children. The sweetest of human affections must find no place within this bosom. I had seen and conceived an ardent passion for Maria, the sister of Gerard’s bride: yet strong as was my love, my pride was still stronger. I could not endure the thought of renouncing the church as a profession, although no longer called to it by feeling; neither could I brook for a moment, that I, who had been so far extolled for superior learning and sanctity, should seem to sink to the level of those around me—those by whom I was now regarded as a prodigy. This fatal haughtiness forbade me ingenuously to avow my love. I therefore nurtured my passion in secret, and meditated how I might best gratify it without compromising my reputation.
“I felt a spiteful envy towards all those who were in the least familiar with Maria, or who danced with her at any festival: it is true, I might have partaken of the same felicity, had it not been for the character which I now conceived it quite incumbent on me to support. In this manner did I causelessly indulge a vague jea​lously; this feeling, however, became more decided, when I shortly afterwards learnt that she was about to bestow her hand upon a low-bred ill-favoured fellow, who passed by the name of Long Peter.
“Is it possible,” said I to the old gossip, who communicated this unwelcome piece of news, “that such a clown can find the least favour in her eyes?”
“Aye! marry! why not? The carle is rich, and liberal withal. He daily makes her some new present.”
“‘So then, wealth and presents are the keys to her affections.’ This idea now haunted me and I envied my rival the more, at the same time, that I felt my affection for Maria somewhat mingled with contempt, so that, let come what would, I was determined to surmount all obstacles, in order to gratify revenge for my wounded pride, and my infuriate love. My father’s circumstances were but moderate, and they had also been considerably reduced by the expences of educating me. He was even now laying by all the little he could spare, in ​order to send me to pursue my studies at Bologna, and afterwards to Rome to obtain preferment in the church: it was in vain, therefore, to think of applying to him; and yet to yield to such a rival, merely for want of being able to procure it, was to me, even as the agony of hell.
“My thoughts now dwelt continually upon Maria: I saw her in my dreams; when, as she was about to embrace me, my hated rival would step between us and bear her away, leaving me to endure all the tortures of despised love. To no one did I disclose the secret of my passion: this my pride forbade me to do. My situation was now dreadful; this fatal passion, grown more ungovernable from being thwarted and concealed, poisoned my existence. My devotion was now merely mechanical; I was become a professed hypocrite, and my sanctity was only assumed in order to preserve to me that reputation I had acquired among my fellow men. The authors whom I now perused, served but to inflame still more those evil passions which required to be checked; while, to crown ​my wretchedness, a gnawing envy of all others preyed upon my heart. Fain would I have forgotten Maria—have erased her image from my memory; but every object served to recal it.
“It was at this period, that, during my solitary rambles, I frequently met an old beggar upon whom I generally bestowed a small trifle, in return for which, he would exclaim: ‘My pious and benevolent master, may Heaven grant, that not a single wish of thy heart be unfulfilled.’ The figure of this wretch was hideous in the extreme; there was a singular malignant expression in his countenance; yet could I not help feeling gratified by the earnestness with which he seemed to thank me. One evening, as I was returning home from strolling in the woods, he suddenly stood before me, at a turn in the path, and thus addressed me: ‘Your kindness requires a better return than I can make: nevertheless, it may be in my power to render you some assistance. I know you that you are unfortunate; that you love hopelessly. I have devined all: enquire not by what means, but receive ​the aid which I now proffer you. Take this coin, it may avail you much, and help you to the accomplishment of your wishes.’—He then took out from his bosom a small bag, containing a dollar. ‘This piece of money, trifling as it may appear, possesses a secret virtue which renders it no mean gift, in return for thy liberality towards me. Change it whenever you please, and it will always return into your purse again, if you do but retain the least part of the change.’
“Having said these words he put the bag into my hand; and, before I could thank him, had disappeared, so suddenly indeed, that I know not how nor whither he was gone. An universal darkness seemed to arise, and it was rendered more horrible by vivid flashes of blue lightning, and loud peals of thunder, that seemed to rend the heavens in twain. I, however, heeded it but little, being too much engrossed in reflecting upon the mysterious treasure of which I was now in possession; nor was it long before I proved its efficacy, when I was overjoyed to find that the old man had not deceived me.
​“The following day my father shew me a rosary of exceeding beauty, which he had been commissioned to make for Maria, by her suitor. ‘This Peter,’ said he, little imagining that he was speaking to me of a rival, ‘is a honest fellow, and one that deserves to win a mistress.’ It was at first his intention to have presented her with a girdle of embossed gold, as Maria had expressed a great desire to possess such an ornament, yet his mother dissuaded him from it on account of the expense.’
“No sooner had I learnt this intelligence than, hoping thereby to win Maria’s affection, I bethought me how I might best contrive to get some one to order this girdle of my father for myself: and, in the mean while, kept continually changing my dollar until I had acquired a sum sufficient to make so considerable a purchase. As I was now devising on some project for the further accomplishment of my design, during a solitary ramble, my attention was suddenly arrested by a musician who was accompanying an air with his guitar. The words of his song depicted the enjoyments of love in so tender ​and captivating a manner, that I could not help eagerly listening: and, from the extreme melodiousness of the voice, I felt irresistibly prepossessed in favour of the singer; judge therefore of my astonishment on discovering him to be a small dwarfish fellow, with a sallow complexion. He informed me that he was a native of Italy, who supported himself by his guitar, and that his name was Negrino.
“But, my friend,” said I, “this profession of thine seems but a sorry one. Methinks it does not find thee in the best of cheer.”
“Perhaps not always,” replied he: “but, if I fast to-day, why I may feast to-morrow, and I can assure you that whenever I do meet with more than common fare, I relish it accordingly. Besides,” added he, in a significant tone, “my calling is not so poor a one as you may imagine: I am always ready to execute any little secret commission, that may be better entrusted to a stroller like myself, who is to-day here, to-morrow gone, than to any one else:—one who receives his pay and interests himself no farther about the business.”
​“Here,” exclaimed I to myself, “is the very fellow I need for the furtherance of my designs.” Without any farther preliminary, therefore, I invited him to accompany me to the nearest tavern, where I regaled him sumptuously with the best of fare and wine. He, on his part, was not behind hand in contributing towards the entertainment: he related to me several mirthful anecdotes, and sung some of his most enlivening songs: so that, in a short while, my reserve was completely removed; and whatever scruples I yet felt, respecting my designs upon Maria, completely vanished. As our conversation became more free, my new companion expressed himself very unreservedly upon all subjects; he was particularly severe in his remarks on monks and priests; and indeed turned into ridicule the holiest mysteries of our religion. He also related to me many tales of magic and necromancy, Hereupon I enquired of him whether he had ever heard of the magic or breeding dollar which always returned to its owner after being changed.
​“Aye indeed!” replied he, “well do I know of such, and the manner in which it may be obtained. It can be only on the eve of Christmas, or of St. John’s day: at either of those seasons proceed, just at that hour of the night when spirits are abroad, to some crossway, taking with thee any black animal or bird. After repeating a certain magic rhyme, a black giant appears and demands, what it is thou seekest? It then behoveth thee to present him the bird or animal, saying: ‘This black creature do I offer to thee, that thou mayest give me in return a magic dollar,’ and he immediately accepts the offering. Should it happen that there is a single white feather, or hair on the creature that is presented, the person who offers it is inevitably lost: for the giant instantly destroys him: but, on the contrary has it none, he flings him the dollar and disappears through the air.”
“But is it not possible,” enquired I, “to obtain such a piece of money, in any other way—by gift or inheritance?”
“Truly it is, and fortunate indeed is that ​mortal who so obtaineth it; for he has no guilt on his soul.”
“To hear this was a great relief to my mind. I now disclosed to him my intentions respecting the girdle, upon which he said:
“Only furnish me with the requisite sum, and point out where your father dwells, and I will not fail to purchase it. At the same time write a letter by which it may appear, although not expressed too plainly so, that you are the giver of the present.”
“This counsel pleased me exceedingly well; and it so happened that, on the following day, I had an opportunity of seeing Maria, when I pressed her to accept the girdle, which I had caused Negrino to purchase: taking care, at the same time, to inform her that Peter had declined selecting it for a present, although he well knew how desirous she was of it, on account of its price. This present obtained me the favour of several interviews; for, when a woman condescends to accept gifts she is no longer mistress of her actions. I was not remiss, as you may well believe, in employing ​these intervals to my own advantage: my generosity, or rather liberality had won her over to listen; the clandestine manner of our interviews conferred on them a piquancy greatly in my favour; and inclination completed the rest, so that I at length fully obtained my object, and gratified at once my passion for Maria, and my revenge towards my rival.
“Whatever compunction or scruples I might have at first felt, at this criminal indulgence, were stifled by the diabolical acts and treacherous counsels of Negrino: and, blinded by my desires, I perceived not the precipice towards which I was hurrying. At length the fruits of our criminal intercourse could no longer be concealed; whereupon Negrino advised us to avoid all disgrace and scandal by an immediate flight; putting ourselves therefore under his guidance, we fled with him to Poland.”
“And your father,” exclaimed Jacob, “and Maria’s mother died shortly after, quite heart-broken!”
“Unhappy wretch that I am! yet, let me proceed with my confession.—Negrino acted as ​our guide and conductor, and exerted himself so effectually to dissipate all sorrowful reflections, that, abandoning ourselves to reckless mirth, we listened with complacency to the profligate discourse with which he sought to amuse us. But, on the third day of our journey, while passing through a large forest, we were suddenly attacked by a band of robbers.
“Now,” said Negrino, “the bird is fairly caught, and the dollar is my own.”
“How!” exclaimed I to him indignantly, “hast thou then betrayed me, Judas-like? is this a plot of thine to destroy one who has ever shewn himself thy friend?”
“My young gentleman,” replied the perfidious wretch, “one may easily perceive that you have not an idea beyond the school you have just left, where you have heard fine maxims and lessons of virtue, friendship, piety and such other old-fashioned qualities. But I will give you a piece of advice, that is at least worth the dollar I take from you:—these virtues make a fine figure in books, but the sorriest possible in the world. In the latter, ​interest is the sole spring that directs our actions: you were eager to possess Maria and have stolen her from her mother; I was as anxious for your dollar, and have robbed you of it: so far we are quit—and, as for consequences, neither of us gives himself much concern.”
“Having thus spoken, he assisted the others in plundering us, while I stood nearly stupified by despair. The captain of the troop, a fine handsome man, whose noble figure was advantageously set off by his rich armour, now came up to us, and familiarly exhorted Maria to be consoled for what had happened, and to consider herself fortunate in having fallen into the hands of one who could appreciate her beauty, and who would secure her from neglect. Whether influenced or no by the maxims she had just heard from Negrino, or prepossessed by the air of the robber, I know not, but certain it is that she displayed no repugnance towards him; on the contrary, she seemed well pleased to accompany him.
“There now,” exclaimed Negrino in a tone ​of malignant triumph, “you perceive that innocence and love are names equally empty as virtue and honour—a mere tale believed by an idiot—a visionary dream—a school-boy’s morality!”
“In a paroxysm of despair, and as if desirous of sinking lower than even at present, I offered my services to the robber, who was pleased to compliment me on my sturdy, youthful appearance, and gladly received me as a comrade in his troop.
“Resigning myself with a sort of horrible satisfaction to what I considered the decree of a blind destiny, I vowed, within myself, to avenge myself on my fellow men for the malignity of fortune towards myself. Discarding at once all my former principles altogether, and quite reckless of existence, I soon signalized myself, even among these wretches, by my desperate hardihood.
“Negrino continued with the robbers; yet he never accompanied them in their excursions, but only acted as a confederate and a spy. He seemed, however, to urge them on to all sorts ​of excesses by his desperate advice, and abandoned discourse, making a continual mockery of any thing like either pity or regret. Surrounded by dissolute companions, tortured by the infidelity of Maria, prompted to all the desperation of determined vice by Negrino, I seemed to reject every idea of abandoning my present habits, nor could I quiet my tortured mind, save by plunging deeper into confirmed guilt. The approbation too which I obtained from my comrades awaked my pride, and I now sought to signalize myself by arts of violence and rapine; nor was it long before I attained to a pre-eminence in guilt. In this manner two years passed away, when the captain, being mortally wounded, nominated me as his successor, and the voice of my comrades unanimously seconded his choice. Maria, also, seemed eager to renew our former footing; but, giving vent to the indignation I had so long been obliged to smother, I thrust her from me with disdain. “Inconstant, unfeeling woman,” exclaimed I, “It is thou who hast made me the degraded mortal—nay, the very demon ​that I am. Take, therefore, the sword thou meritest.” So saying, I plunged my dagger into the unhappy creature’s bosom. Even the robbers seemed struck with terror at this act of barbarity; but Negrino applauded what he termed my firmness. I now gave loose to my thirst for blood and revenge; I wished to punish, if possible, the whole human race in vengeance for my ruined hopes.
“Thus did I become the terror and dread of a whole country; insomuch that, in both Prussia and Poland, the government offered considerable rewards for my apprehension. At length, after baffling all their vigilance for a long while, I fell in with a party which proved too strong for me. In spite of the desperate resistance that we made, we were overpowered; I was taken a prisoner and conducted hither. On the very first night of my arrival here, as the prison clock struck the hour of twelve, I perceived a sudden light in my cell, by means of which I clearly discerned the figure of the old beggar standing before me, who saluted me with his ​wonted words, ‘Heaven grant that not a single wish of thy heart be unfulfilled!’
“‘Gregory,’ continued he, ‘the germs of goodness and virtue were plentifully sown in thy bosom, but thy passions have been violent. To these latter didst thou resign thyself without opposition: therefore, did thy protecting angel withdraw from thee, and leave thee an easy prey to me. It was I who gave thee the magic dollar, knowing that it would lead to thy destruction; nor have I been deceived, for thy subsequent progress in vice has proved most rapid. Thou art now lost; yet it is in my power to liberate thee from this dungeon, on the single condition that thou bindest thyself to me, both body and soul.’
“I rejected this offer with pride and disdain; whereupon he departed leaving me to my own wretched reflections. The torture which I suffered the next day did not permit me to slumber the following night; and, at about the same hour, my cell was suddenly light as before, and Negrino stood before me.
​“‘Dost thou not remember,’ said he ‘the contemptuous kick which thou once gave me when thou spurnedst me away from thee, as a base miscreant. Haughty wretch! what arrogance was thine! little didst thou deem that it was I that inspired thee with the wish—and lent thee the power of committing evil. It was I that prompted thee to thy destruction:—thou wert but a mere tool in my hands. Thou deservest to feel now thy own impotence and littleness; yet, on condition that thou wilt promise to serve me still, I will take compassion on thy present helplessness, and free thee from thy prison.’’
“His words filled me with a rage that I could not restrain. ‘Vile fiend of hell,’ exclaimed I indignantly, at the same time spurning at him with violence, ‘that is the only reply I deign to make.’ No sooner had I spoken than the whole building seemed to shake, as if threatening to bury me in its ruins, and Negrino disappeared in a blue flame.
“Great was the struggle which I afterwards felt within myself. Fain would I have opened ​my lips in prayer, yet dared not. I recalled to mind my first innocent happy years, ere I had leagued myself with the ministers of perdition; and, touched by the images that rushed upon my memory, I invoked the shades of my parents to pray for me, and to look down with compassion upon their guilty, wretched child. While indulging in these first feelings of penitence, I felt relieved from a weight that had long oppressed me: yet, I was still doomed to be haunted by my terrific nightly visitants. At midnight the prince of darkness, Satan himself appeared before me in the form of an elder, arrayed in the garb of royalty. ‘Since thou wouldst not yield to my inferior spirits,’ said he, ‘I myself, the monarch of the infernal shades, am come to thy rescue. Sixty years of uninterrupted enjoyments do I promise to thee if thou wilt but enter into compact with me; for thy daring and thy energy deserve this meed of me.’ It is well known to you that I did not comply with the tempter. You are now acquainted with all that I have to confess; and, as for myself, I am prepared to meet both torture and ​death. If it be possible, however, that my soul may yet be rescued from perdition, I pray thee father to recommend me in thy orisons, to that God, against whom I have sinned.”
As a sign of his penitence, Jacob now requested that he would divulge the accomplices of his crimes. “No!” exclaimed Gregory, “to them I have vowed fidelity, and will not, therefore, betray them. Yet, if the order will promise them a complete amnesty, on condition of receiving from them the plate and holy vessels, of which they have plundered churches; and if a brother of the convent, to whom I will give a pass of security, be the bearer of a letter to them from me, to that effect,—I will, under the seal of confession, disclose to you where they may be found.” Nor could he be prevailed upon to make any other terms.
In order, therefore, to rid themselves of such a nest of depredators, they were fain to comply with his stipulations. A worthy monk, therefore, eager to rescue so many wretched souls from perdition, undertook to execute such a hazardous commission, and ventured to become the ​negociator between Gregory and the robbers. His mission was crowned with success, for he returned home, bringing with him a vast quantity of plate, jewels and relics, the plunder of a number of churches, and accompanied by upwards of thirty of Gregory’s followers, who, moved by the entreaties of their captain, had readily surrendered themselves to the monk. Their first enquiry on their arrival, was after their leader, in compliance with whose wish they had quitted their former way of life, but learnt that he was no more; for, on the very day of the monk’s departure, he became suddenly ill, and within a few hours expired, having previously exhibited signs of the deepest penitence for his crimes; and joining fervently in the prayers of Jacob, who enjoyed the consolation of closing the eyes of his beloved pupil, fully assured of his recovery from his former transgressions. Touched by the loss of a leader, to whom they had been so attached, and moved to compunction by the exhortations of the venerable fathers, some few of the robbers resolved to atone for their offences by dedicating themselves to the ​solitude of the cloyster; while the rest, still anxious for a life of tumult and danger to which they had hitherto been accustomed yet, dreading to return to their former desperate habits, enlisted against the Infidels, and, in these wars, many of them fell fighting under the banners of their country.
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