And--and--"
He broke off suddenly and crossed himself. Pierre Midon stared at
the action.
"What ails thee, Jean?" he asked brusquely,--"Hast thou remembered a
dead sin, or a passing soul?"
"Neither," replied Patoux slowly, "But only just the thought of
another child--a waif and stray whom the good Cardinal found in the
streets of Rouen, outside our great Cathedral door. A gentle lad!--
my wife was greatly taken with him;--and he was present in my house
too, when the miracle of healing was performed."
"And for that, is there any need to cross thyself like a mumbling
old woman afraid of the devil?" enquired his cousin.
Patoux smiled a slow smile.
"Gently, Pierre--gently!" he said. "Thou art of Paris,--I of the
provinces. That makes all the difference in the way we look at life.
There are very few holy things in great cities,--but there are many
in the country. Every day when I am at home I go out of the town to
work in my field,--and I feel the clean breath of the wind, the
scent of the earth and the colours of the sky and the flowers,--and
I know quite well there is a God, or these blessings could not be.
For if there were only Chance and a Man to manage the universe, a
pretty muddle we should have of it! And when I see or think of a
holy thing, I sign the cross out of old childhood's habit,--so just
now, when I remembered the boy whom the Cardinal rescued from the
streets, I knew I was thinking of a holy thing; and that explains my
action.
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