he emptiness began to grow less
terrible to us. We spoke in our natural voices as we came out, scarcely
knowing how great was the difference between them and the whispers which
had been all we dared at first to employ. Yet the sound of these louder
tones scared us when we heard them, for we were still trembling, not
assured of deliverance. It was he who showed himself a man, not I; for
my heart was overwhelmed, the tears stood in my eyes, I had no strength
to resist my impressions.

'Martin Dupin,' he said suddenly, 'it is enough. We are frightening
ourselves with shadows. We are afraid even of our own voices. This must
not be. Enough! Whosoever they were who have been in Semur, their
visitation is over, and they are gone.'

'I think so,' I said faintly; 'but God knows.' Just then something
passed me as sure as ever man passed me. I started back out of the way
and dropped my friend's arm, and covered my eyes with my hands. It was
nothing that could be seen; it was an air, a breath. M. le Cure looked
at me wildly; he was as a man beside himself. He struck his foot upon
the pavement and gave a loud and bitter cry.

'Is it delusion?' he said, 'O my God! or shall not even this, not even
so much as this be revealed to me?'

To see a man who had so ruled himself, who had resisted every
disturbance and stood fast when all gave way, moved thus at the very
last to cry out with passion against that which had been denied to him,
brought me back to myself. How often had I read it in his eyes before!
He--the priest--the servant of the unseen--yet to all of us lay persons
had that been revealed which was hid from him. A great pity was within
me, and gave me strength. 'Brother,' I said, 'we are weak. If we saw
heaven opened, could we trust to our vision now? Our imaginations are
masters of us. So far as mortal eye can see, we are alone in Semur. Have
you forgotten your psalm, and how you sustained us at the first? And
now, your Cathedral is open to you, my brother. _Laetatus sum_,' I said.
It was an inspiration from above, and no thought of mine; for it is well
known, that though deeply respectful, I have never professed religion.
With one impulse we turned, we went together, as in a procession, across
the silent place, and up the great steps. We said not a word to each
other of what we meant to do. All was fair and silent in the holy place;
a breath of incense still in the air; a murmur of psalms (as one could
imagine) far up in