Part 17 (2/2)

”You are mad! What is your notion of Christ?”

”Not of Christ, but of His intermediary the human being who replaces Him.”

”You can only chance upon a man pointed out beforehand from above to judge you; moreover, at Notre Dame de l'Atre you have every chance of kneeling at the feet of a saint, therefore G.o.d will inspire him, will be present, you have nothing to fear.

”As to the Communion, the prospect of being rejected terrifies you, but is not that one proof the more that, contrary to your opinion, G.o.d does not leave you insensible?”

”Yes, but the idea of communicating alarms me none the less.”

”I say to you again: if Jesus were indifferent to you, it would be just the same to you, to consume or not to consume the sacred species.”

”All that does not convince me,” sighed Durtal. ”I do not know where I am; I am afraid of a confessor, of others, of myself; it is foolish, but it is stronger than I. I cannot gain the upper hand.”

”You are afraid of the water; imitate Gribouille, throw yourself in boldly; look, suppose I write to La Trappe this very day to say you are coming; when?”

”Oh!” cried Durtal, ”wait a while.”

”To get an answer, we need two days each way; will you go there five days hence?”

And, as Durtal was astounded and silent,

”Is that settled?”

Then, at that moment, Durtal had a strange experience, as often at St.

Severin, a sort of caressing touch and gentle push; he felt a will insinuate itself into his own, and he drew back disquieted at seeing he had a double self, to find he was no longer alone in the depth of his being; then he was inexplicably rea.s.sured, and gave himself up, and as soon as he had said ”Yes” he felt immensely relieved; then pa.s.sing from one extreme to the other, he was troubled at the idea that his departure could not take place at once, and was sorry that he had still to pa.s.s five days in Paris.

The abbe laughed. ”But the Trappists must have notice, it is a simple formality, for with a word from me, you will be received at once, but wait at least until I have sent this word; I will post it this evening, so have no anxiety, and sleep in peace.”

Durtal in his turn laughed at his own impatience. ”You must think me very ridiculous,” he said.

The priest shrugged his shoulders. ”Come, you asked me about my little monastery; I must try to satisfy you. It is very small, if compared with the grande Trappe at Soligny, or the establishments at Sept Fonds, Meilleray or Aiguebelle, for there are only about ten choir fathers, and about thirty lay brothers or 'conversi.' There are also a certain number of peasants who work with them, and help them to till their land, and make their chocolate.”

”They make chocolate!”

”That surprises you. How do you think they live? Ah! I warn you, you are not going into a sumptuous monastery.”

”I like it so. But in regard to the stories of La Trappe, I suppose the monks do not greet each other with 'Brother, we must die,' and that they do not dig their graves every morning?”

”All that is false. They take no trouble about their graves, and they salute each other silently, since they are forbidden to speak.”

”Then what am I to do if I need anything?”

”The abbot, the confessor, and the guest-master have the right of conversing with the guests, you will have to do with them alone; the others will bow when you meet them, but if you speak to them they will not answer.”

”It is well to know that. What is their dress?”

”Before the foundation of Citeaux, the Benedictines wore, or so it is supposed, the black habit of Saint Benedict; the Benedictines properly so-called wear it still, but at Citeaux the colour was changed, and the Trappists, who are a twig of this branch, have adopted the white robe of Saint Bernard.”

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