"Pah!" he would cry, tugging at his midnight beard; "how can these men
be aught but liars, when they live and preach a falsehood? Their creed
is impious, and they are hypocrites. They are not superior beings,
they are flesh like you or me. They have our passions and our faults,
but a thousand times multiplied, for they walk in darkness and dwell
in hypocrisy. Beneath their cassocks is black infamy; their hearts are
full of evil--aye, of lust and of every unclean thing. Being false to
the true God, they are false to themselves and to the religion they
profess; and I will prove it." Thus ran his reasoning.

In order to make good his boast Abul Malek began to study the
monks carefully, one after another. He tried temptation. A certain
gross-bellied fellow he plied with wine. He flattered and fawned upon
the simple friar; he led him into his cellars, striving to poison
the good man's body as well as his mind; but the visitor partook in
moderation, and preached the gospel of Christ so earnestly that the
Saracen fled from his presence, bathing himself in clean water to be
rid of the pollution.

Next he laid a trap for the Abbot himself. He selected the fairest of
his slaves, a well-rounded woman of great physical charm, and bribed
her with a girdle of sequins. She sought out the Abbot and professed
a hunger for his creed. Bound thus by secrecy to the pious man, she
lured him by every means at her command. But the Abbot had room for no
passion save the love of Christ, and her wiles were powerless against
this armor.

Abul Malek was patient; he renewed his vow to hold the false religion
up to ridicule and laughter, thinking, by encompassing the downfall