Part 36 (2/2)
They went silently along a walk which led down into the labour fields.
”I have not noticed Brother Anacletus or old Simeon among these monks,”
exclaimed Durtal, suddenly.
”They are not occupied on the farm; Brother Anacletus is employed in the chocolate factory, and Brother Simeon looks after the pigs; both are working in the immediate neighbourhood of the monastery. If you like, we will go and wish Simeon good-morning.”
And the oblate added, ”You can tell them, when you go back to Paris, that you have seen a real saint, such as existed in the eleventh century; he carries us back to the time of St. Francis of a.s.sisi; he is in some sense the reincarnation of that astonis.h.i.+ng Juniper whose innocent exploits the Fioretti celebrate for us. You know that work?”
”Yes; after the Golden Legend it is the book on which the soul of the Middle Ages is most clearly impressed.”
”But to return to Simeon; this old man is a saint of uncommon simplicity. Here is one proof out of a thousand. Several months ago I was in the prior's cell when Brother Simeon appeared. He made use of the ordinary formula in asking permission to speak, 'Benedicite.' Father Maximin replied 'Dominus,' and on this word, which permitted him to speak, the brother showed his gla.s.ses and said he could no longer see clearly.
”'That is not very surprising,' said the prior, 'you have been using the same gla.s.ses for nearly ten years, and since then your eyes may well have become weaker; never mind, we will find the number which suits your sight now.'
”As he spoke, Father Maximin mechanically moved the gla.s.s of the spectacles between his hands, and suddenly he laughed, showing me his fingers, which were black. He turned round, took a cloth, cleaned the spectacles, and replacing them on the brother's nose, said to him, 'Do you see, Brother Simeon?'
”And the old man, astonished, cried 'Yes ... I see!'
”But this is only one side of this good man. Another is the love of his beasts. When a sow is going to bring forth, he asks permission to pa.s.s the night by her, and delivers her, looking after her like his child, weeps when they sell his little pigs or when the big ones are sent to the slaughter-house! And how all the animals adore him!”
”Truly,” the oblate went on, after a silence, ”G.o.d loves simple souls above all, for he loads Brother Simeon with graces. Alone, here, he can reabsorb and even prevent the demoniacal accidents which arise in cloisters. Then we a.s.sist at strange performances: one fine morning all the pigs fall on their sides; they are ill and at the point of death.
”Simeon, who knows the origin of these evils, cries to the Devil: 'Wait, wait, and you will see!' He runs for holy water, and sprinkles them with it, praying the while, and all the beasts who were dying jump up, frisking about and wagging their tails.
”As for diabolic incursions into the convent itself, they are but too real, and sometimes are only driven back after persistent prayers and energetic fastings; at certain times in most convents the Demon sows a harvest of hobgoblins of whom no one knows how to get rid. Here, the father abbot, the prior, and all those who are priests have failed; it was necessary, to give efficacy to the exorcisms, that the humble lay brother should intervene; so, to forestall new attacks, he has obtained the right to wash the monastery with holy water and to use prayers whenever he thinks well to do so.
”He has the power of feeling where the Evil One is hidden, and he follows him, tracks him, and finally casts him out.”
”Here is the piggery,” continued M. Bruno, showing a tumble-down old place in front of the left wing of the cloister, surrounded by palisades; and he added,
”I warn you, the old man grunts like a pig, but he will not answer your questions except by signs.”
”But he can speak to his animals?”
”Yes, to them only.”
The oblate opened a small door, and the lay brother, all bent, lifted his head with difficulty.
”Good-day, brother,” said M. Bruno; ”here is a gentleman who would like to see your pupils.”
There was a grunt of joy on the lips of the old man. He smiled and invited them by a sign to follow him.
He introduced them into a shed, and Durtal recoiled, deafened by horrible cries, suffocated by the pestilential heat of the liquid manure. All the pigs jumped up behind their barrier, and howled with joy at the sight of the brother.
”Peace, peace,” said the old man, in a gentle voice; and lifting an arm over the paling, he caressed the snouts which, on smelling him, were almost suffocated by grunting.
He drew Durtal aside by the arm, and making him lean over the trellis work, showed him an enormous sow with a snub nose, of English breed, a monstrous animal surrounded by a company of sucking pigs which rushed, as if mad, at her teats.
”Yes, my beauty; go, my beauty,” murmured the old man, stroking her bristles with his hand.
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