He
was no longer praying, however, but merely continuing the operation in a
mechanical manner, his eyes, meantime, fixed upon his neighbour, whose
attack he was following with painful interest.
"Ah! Sister," said he to Sister Hyacinthe, who had drawn near, "that poor
Brother fills me with admiration. Yesterday I doubted the Blessed Virgin
for a moment, seeing that she did not deign to hear me, though I have
been coming here for seven years past; but the example set me by that
poor martyr, so resigned amidst his torments, has quite shamed me for my
want of faith. You can have no idea how grievously he suffers, and you
should see him at the Grotto, with his eyes glowing with divine hope! It
is really sublime! I only know of one picture at the Louvre--a picture by
some unknown Italian master--in which there is the head of a monk
beatified by a similar faith."
The man of intellect, the ex-university-professor, reared on literature
and art, was reappearing in this poor old fellow, whose life had been
blasted, and who had desired to become a free patient, one of the poor of
the earth, in order to move the pity of Heaven.
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