Beneath it,
between two other priests who assisted him, was Abbe Judaine, vigorously
clasping the Blessed Sacrament with both hands, as Berthaud had
recommended him to do; and the somewhat uneasy glances that he cast on
the encroaching crowd right and left showed how anxious he was that no
injury should befall the heavy divine monstrance, whose weight was
already straining his wrists. When the slanting sun fell upon him in
front, the monstrance itself looked like another sun. Choir-boys meantime
were swinging censers in the blinding glow which gave splendour to the
entire procession; and, finally, in the rear, there was a confused mass
of pilgrims, a flock-like tramping of believers and sightseers all
aflame, hurrying along, and blocking the track with their ever-rolling
waves.
Father Massias had returned to the pulpit a moment previously; and this
time he had devised another pious exercise. After the burning cries of
faith, hope, and love that he threw forth, he all at once commanded
absolute silence, in order that one and all might, with closed lips,
speak to God in secret for a few minutes.
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