The abbot was indeed approaching, in the company of several monks. The abbot was short, plump and chubby-cheeked, but his benign and good-natured appearance was contradicted by the fierce grimace of his mouth and his lively eyes, which swiftly jumped from Scharley to Reynevan and back again.

“Well?” he asked, slipping his hands beneath his scapular. “What’s wrong with Brother Deodatus?”

“The spiritus animalis is afflicted,” announced Scharley, pouting proudly. “It is some kind of grand mal or great malady, as described by Avicenna, in brief: tohu wa-bohu. You ought to know, Reverende Pater, that things look bleak. But action shall be taken.”

“What action?”

“To drive the evil spirit from the possessed man.”

“Are you so certain that it is possession?” asked the abbot, tilting his head.

“I’m certain it’s not diarrhoea.” Scharley’s voice was quite cold. “Diarrhoea has different symptoms.”

“You are not men of the cloth, however.” The abbot’s voice still carried a note of suspicion.

“Oh, but we are.” Scharley did not bat an eyelid. “I’ve already explained it to the brother infirmarian. We dress secularly for camouflage, to baffle the Devil, in order to take him by surprise.”

The abbot looked keenly at him. Oh dear, this isn’t good, thought Reynevan. He’s no fool. This might indeed end badly.

“How, then, do you mean to proceed?” The abbot kept his probing eyes on Scharley. “According to Avicenna? Or perhaps according to the instructions of Saint Isidor of Seville, found in the work entitled… Oh, dear, I’ve forgotten… But you, learned exorcist, undoubtedly know—”

“Etymologiae.” Scharley didn’t bat an eyelid this time, either. “I make use of the lore found there, for it is elementary knowledge, and of the same author’s De natura rerum.”

The abbot’s gaze softened somewhat, but it was clear that some suspicion remained.

“You are learned, there’s no denying it,” he said with a sneer, “as you have demonstrated. And what now? Will you ask for vittles first? And beverages? And advance payment?”

“Not a word about payment,” said Scharley, straightening up so proudly that Reynevan was seized with real admiration. “Not a word about coinage, for I am neither a merchant nor a money-lender. I shall settle for alms, a modest gift, and by no means in advance, but only after the work is complete. Regarding vittles and beverages, however, I shall remind you, Reverend Father, of the words of the Gospel: evil spirits are driven out only by prayer and fasting.”

The abbot’s face lit up and the hostile severity vanished from his eyes.

“Verily,” he said, “I see I am dealing with virtuous and pious Christians. And verily I say: the Gospel is all very well, but how can one, as the saying goes, work on an empty stomach? I invite you to prandium. A modest, fast-day prandium, for today is Friday. Beavers’ tails in sauce…”