Part 6 (1/2)

”And you will be a Jesuit, and teach, and never ride a good horse again, and give up your people and your place in the world!”

”I shall be a Jesuit, if I can,” said Stanislaus. ”As for what I shall give up, well, I'd have to give it up when death came, wouldn't I? And since G.o.d wants it, I'd sooner give it up now.”

But he had not much time for talk. Day was growing; he must be off.

He got his friend's promise about the letter, bade him good-by heartily and cheerily, and turned his face towards the Augsburg road. What happened else that day we have already seen, and how Paul and Bilinski followed him, and how he got away, and how he did walk, bravely, gayly, in less than two weeks the four hundred miles to Augsburg.

CHAPTER XI

AT DILLIGEN

It was well on in the afternoon of August 30th or 31st when Stanislaus arrived at Augsburg. The town was strange to him. He had to ask his way to the Jesuit house.

”I want to see Father Canisius,” he told the porter at the door.

”I have a letter of introduction to him.”

The porter was very sorry, but Father Canisius was not in Augsburg.

Stanislaus' heart fell. Not in Augsburg! His four hundred miles on foot for nothing! It was a terrible disappointment.

”Wait a moment,” said the porter, ”until I call one of the Fathers.”

As Stanislaus waited, he kept asking himself, ”What shall I do? What shall I do now?” And for a little while he could not think clearly.

He felt almost sick. But he was not the kind to be discouraged long, and before the porter returned with the Father he had made up his mind.

”Since Canisius is not in Augsburg, well, I'll go to whatever place he is in.

The Father who came was all regrets. Canisius had gone to Dillingen. But would not Stanislaus come in, and at least rest a few days before seeking him further? No, Stanislaus was going on - at once.

”How far is it?” he asked. ”And can you point me out the road?”

”It is about thirty-five miles,” the Father answered. ”But you can't go on this evening. You must be dreadfully tired.”

Yes, he was tired, but not so tired that he could not go to Dillingen.

It is only a little way, after all,” he said, smiling as he always smiled. But he stopped to eat something with the Jesuits, both because he was hungry, and because it would be discourteous to refuse all their kind offers.

One of the lay-brothers had to go on business to Dillingen, so he hastened to accompany Stanislaus. It is from his testimony that we know what happened on the way.

Before the sun had quite set, he was on the road once more. He slept in a field that night. He was up early the next morning, and stepped out bravely, fasting, and hoping for a chance to go to Holy Communion.

The evening before, he had left Augsburg a good many miles behind.

A few miles more in the early morning brought him to a little village. From some distance he saw the spire of its church. He hastened his steps, lest Ma.s.s should be over before he reached the place.

When he came to the church, he saw through its open door a scattered little congregation at their prayers. He entered quickly, sank to his knees, and dropping his face between his hands began to pray.

But somehow the place felt strange. After a bit he looked about him, and saw with astonishment that he was in a Lutheran church. The Lutheran heresy was still young and kept up many Catholic practices.

It was easy to be deceived.

He felt a little shocked. He had been preparing to receive Holy Communion, and now he should have to go without. But as he looked about, the church to his eyes glowed with light. Out of the light came a troop of blessed angels and drew near to him. He was frightened, delighted, all at once. Then he saw that one of the angels bore with deep reverence the Blessed Sacrament, and that G.o.d had granted his desire for Holy Communion. He received It with quiet joy, but simply, humbly, for he knew that this miracle of Its coming to him was as nothing to the miracle that there should be any Blessed Sacrament at all. Since G.o.d had stooped to leave us His Flesh and Blood, the manner in which He gave It was of quite secondary importance.