e heard it? He could not tell. It was the name of a
young man; he could remember that, and nothing more. Again the name
sounded--"Christ." There was another word like Christ which seemed at
some time to have brought an idea first of great suffering and then of
great peace. Aye, peace, but no pleasure. No delight like this shed from
these marvellous blue eyes. Again the name sounded--"Christ."

Ah! the other word was cross (_croix_). He remembered now; along thing
with a short thing across it.

Was it that as he thought of these things the charm of the blue eyes and
their great sadness lessened in intensity? We dare not say, but as some
faint conception of what a cross was flitted through the Abbe's brain,
although he could think of no prayer, of no distinct use of this cross,
he drew his right hand slowly up, and feebly made the sign across his
breast.

The vision vanished.

The men adoring ceased their clamor, and lay crouched up against each
other as if some strong electric power had been taken from them, and
great weakness had succeeded. But for a moment; and then they rose
trembling and with loosened hands, and stood for an instant feebly
gazing at the Abbe, who felt faint and exhausted, and heeded them not.
With extraordinary presence of mind, the Prince walked quickly up to
him, pushed him out of the door by which they had entered, followed him,
and locked the door behind them, thus precluding the possibility of
being immediately pursued by the others. Once in the next room, the Abbe
and Pomerantseff paused for an instant to recover breath, for the
swiftness of their flight had exhausted them, worn out as they both were
mentally and physically; but during this brief interval the Prince, who
appeared to be retaining his presence of mind by a merely mechanical
effort, carefully replaced over his friend's eyes the bandage which the
Abbe held tightly grasped in his hand. Then he led him on, and it was
not until the cold air struck them that they noticed they had left their
hats behind.

"_N'importe!_" muttered Pomerantseff. "It would be dangerous to return";
and hurrying the Abbe into the carriage which awaited them, he bade the
coachman speed them away "_au grand galop_!"

Not a word was spoken; the Abbe lay back as one in a swoon, and heeded
nothing until he felt the carriage stop, and the Prince uncovered his
eyes and told him he had reached home. He alighted in silence, and
passed into his house without a w