that Christ the Lord destroyed thy ways? Fear him, Who was sacrificed in Isaac, Who was sold in Joseph, was slain in the Lamb, was crucified in man, thence was the triumpher over hell.'
The stinking winds became a fierce howling out of the smoky depths of hell. Tentacles of thick ropelike smoke wound around the ankles of those in the small bedroom, the touch scaly and hot.
'Ignore it,' Father Le Moyne told the witnesses.
Jeanne moaned and thrashed on the bed, the ropes binding her, cutting into her wrists and ankles. Drops of blood stained the damp sheet.
Le Moyne signed the Cross. 'Depart therefore in the Name of the Father—' he signed the Cross '—and of the Son—' the signing '—and of the Holy—' the signing '—Ghost: give place to the Holy Ghost, this sign of the Holy—' the signing '—Cross of Jesus Christ our Lord: Who with the Father, and the same Holy Ghost, liveth and reigneth ever one God, world without end. Amen.'
The wind changed into a low moaning, intermixed with the voices of those condemned to the fiery pits, the flames licking at them, searing forever and ever the flesh of the damned. The ropelike smoke snaked around the room, ankle level, seeking some softening in the faith of those witnessing the exorcism.
All kicked the thick smoke away.
The wind built in fury, all but covering the praying of the priest. Father Le Moyne made three signings on the girl's breast. He touched the girl on the forehead with the sign of the cross.
'I adjure thee, thou old serpent, by the judge of the quick and the dead, by thy Maker, and the Maker of the world: by Him, Who hath the power to put thee into hell, that thou depart in haste from this servant of God, who returns to the bosom of the Church, with thy fear and with the torment of thy terror. I adjure Thee again—' he signed the cross on his forehead '—not in my infirmity, but by the power of the Holy Ghost, that thou go out of this servant of God, whom the Almighty God hath made in His Own Image.
The howling and the moaning of those confined forever to the smoking heat of the pits became overpowering in volume, covering the priest's words. Still he exorcised the demon from the girl. Those gathered as witnesses could not hear Le Moyne's words but could see only his lips moving. Many times the priest signed the cross, on the chest, the forehead, her arm. Le Moyne raised his voice; he was shouting. Still the howling winds covered his words. But Jeanne was hearing every word in her heart.
The girl's face was a mask of terror and confusion, as she was torn between two worlds, ripped and tossed back and forth between light and darkness, comfort and pain, good and evil. Once she cried, 'Oh, God— help me!'
She was slammed backward on the bed as if struck by an invisible fist. Her mouth became bloody and she soiled herself with urine and excrement. The room stank of human waste and of the odor of burning sulphur.
Again and again, the priest signed the cross, on the girl, on those gathered in the room, and himself. Le Moyne prayed, as the girl alternated between cursing and asking God for help in her battle.
'I therefore adjure thee, thou most foul spirit, every appearance, every inroad of Satan, in the name of Jesus Christ—' the signing '—of Nazareth, Who after His baptism in Jordan, was led into the wilderness, and overcame thee in thine own strong hold: that thou cease to assault her whom He formed from the dust of the earth for His own honour and glory: and that thou in miserable man tremble not at human weakness, but at the image of Almighty God.
The room began to pitch as if it possessed a body and brain of its own among the wood and glass and stone. The witnesses were hurled back and forth, all of them grabbing onto dressers, bedposts, closet doors; anything to give them some support.
Jeanne began screaming in fear as her body jerked in uncontrollable spasms of agony on the sweat-soaked bed. No one but God, the girl, and Satan could hear the words from Father Le Moyne's mouth and heart and faith.
The priest was shutting out Satan, and the Dark One was highly irritated.
The bed began to move, jerking back and forth, rocking on its legs, slinging the bound girl from side to side. Stinking vomit erupted from Jeanne's mouth, spraying the priest. Still he calmly invoked the power of God to free the possessed young woman from the black grips of Satan.
The hot winds became of hurricane force, slamming against the house. The window in the bedroom was smashed, glass shattering and spraying those witnessing the departure of the howling fury that possessed Jeanne.
Father Le Moyne was exhausted, as Satan was pounding him with invisible forces as strong as those flailing the young girl. But the priest would not back away from this battle; would not even allow the thought of failure to enter his mind, despite all that Satan was throwing at him. Father Daniel Le Moyne would win this fight.
With God's help.
'There is no time for delay,' the priest prayed the final verses of the rite of exorcism. 'For behold the Lord the Ruler approaches closely upon thee, and his fire shall glow before him and shall go before him; and shall burn up His enemies on every side. If thou hast deceived man, at God thou canst not scoff: One expels thee, from Whose Sight nothing is hidden.
'Amen.'
Father Le Moyne smiled an exhausted smile of victory as the winds abruptly ceased their howlings. The ropelike smoke was gone from the room. The odor of burning sulphur left the room. The demons had ceased their screaming. Jeanne LaMeade lay passively on the stained sheet.
The priest prayed softly for a moment. The room and the bed ceased their movements. The winds had died down to nothing.
Jeanne opened her eyes. They were free of wildness. She looked very confused and very frightened. 'Mille!' she called. 'What's been happening to me. Where have I been? What—where am I?'
Father Le Moyne put a hand on the girl's face. 'You've been in hell, child. But you're home now.'
