Part 27 (1/2)

And as the prior, still bending over him, did not move,

”But I cannot,” he cried; ”I cannot.”

All that life he could not bring out, stifled him; he sobbed in despair at the view of his sins, and crushed also at finding himself thus abandoned, without a word of kindness, without help. It seemed to him that all was giving way, that he was lost, repulsed even by Him who yet had directed him to this abbey.

Then a hand was laid on his shoulder, while a gentle, low voice said,

”Your soul is too tired for me to fatigue you with questions, come back at nine o'clock to-morrow, we shall have time before us, we shall not then be hurried by any office; from now till then, think of the story of Calvary; the cross, which was made for the sins of the whole world, lay so heavily on the shoulders of the Saviour, that His knees bent and He fell. A man of Cyrene pa.s.sed by who helped the Lord to bear it. You, in detesting, in weeping for your sins, have alleviated and rendered lighter, if one may say so, the cross of the burthen of your sins, and having made it less heavy, have thus allowed Our Lord to lift it.

”He has recompensed you by the most astonis.h.i.+ng of miracles, the miracle of having brought you here from so far off. Thank Him, then, with all your heart, and be not discomforted. You will say to-day for your penance, the Penitential Psalms, and the Litany of the Saints. I will give you my blessing.”

And the prior blessed him and went out. Durtal raised himself up after his tears; what he feared so much had happened; the monk who would take him in hand was impa.s.sive, almost dumb. ”Alas!” he thought, ”my abscesses are ripe, but it needs the cut of a lancet to open them.”

”After all,” he went on, as he went upstairs to bathe his eyes in his cell, ”this Trappist was compa.s.sionate at last, not so much in what he said, as the tone in which he said it; then, to be just, he was perhaps confused by my tears; the Abbe Gevresin certainly did not tell Father Etienne that I was taking refuge in La Trappe in order to be converted, let us put ourselves in the place of a man living in G.o.d, far from the world, over whose head a shower bath is suddenly discharged.

”Well, we shall see to-morrow;” and Durtal made haste to sponge his face, for it was nearly eleven o'clock and the office of s.e.xt was about to begin.

He went to the chapel, which was almost empty, for the brothers were working at that time in the chocolate factory, and in the fields.

The fathers were in their places in the apse. The prior struck his bell, all signed themselves with a large cross, and on the left, where he could not see, for Durtal had taken the same place as in the morning, near Saint Joseph's altar, a voice arose:

”Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tec.u.m.”

And the other part of the choir answered:

”Et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Jesus.”

There was a moment's pause, and the pure thin voice of the old Trappist sang as before the office of Compline the evening before:

”Deus in adjutorium meum intende.”

And the liturgy continued its course, with its ”Gloria Patri,” etc., during which the monks bowed their foreheads on their books, and with its series of psalms, accented in short tones on the one side, and long on the other.

Durtal, as he knelt, allowed himself to be rocked by the psalmody, too tired to be able to pray himself.

Then, when s.e.xt was ended, all the fathers meditated, and Durtal caught a look of pity from the prior, who turned a little towards his bench. He understood that the monk implored the Saviour for him, and perhaps asked G.o.d to show him the way in which he might conduct himself on the morrow.

Durtal rejoined M. Bruno in the court; they shook hands, and the oblate announced the presence of a new guest.

”A retreatant?”

”No; a curate from the neighbourhood of Lyons, he has come to see the abbot, who is ill.”

”But I thought the abbot of Notre Dame de l'Atre was the tall monk who led the office?”

”Oh no; that was the prior Father Maximin, you have not seen the abbot, and I doubt if you will see him, for I do not think he will leave his bed before you go.”

They reached the guest-house, and found Father Etienne making excuses to a short fat priest for the poor fare he could offer.

He was a jovial priest, with strong features moulded in yellow fat.