ld he do? In what way could he force Heaven to come to
his assistance? He went away, hastened to the Bishop's palace, the
doors of which he again forced open, and before his incoherent words his
father was for a moment frightened. At last he understood. Angelique
was dying! She awaited the Extreme Unction, and now God alone could save
her. The young man had only come to cry out all his agony, to break all
relations with this cruel, unnatural father, and to accuse him to his
face of willingly allowing this death. But Monseigneur listened to him
without anger: upright and very serious, his eyes suddenly brightened
with a strange clearness, as if an inner voice had spoken to him.
Motioning to his son to lead the way, he followed him, simply saying at
last:

"If God wishes it, I also wish it."

Felicien trembled so that he could scarcely move. His father consented,
freed from his personal vow, to submit himself to the goodwill of the
hoped-for miracle. Henceforth they, as individuals, counted for nothing.
God must act for himself. Tears blinded him. Whilst in the Sacristy
Monseigneur took the sacred oils from the hands of the Abbe Cornille. He
accompanied them, almost staggering; he did not dare to enter into the
chamber, but fell upon his knees at the threshold of the door, which was
open wide.

The voice of the Bishop was firm, as he said:

"_Pax huic domui_."

"_Et omnibus habitantibus in ea_," the priest replied.

Monseigneur had just placed on the white table, between the two
wax-candles, the sacred oils, making in the air the sign of the cross,
with the silver vase. Then he took from the hands of the Abbe the
crucifix, and approached the sufferer that he might make her kiss it.
But Angelique was still unconscious: her eyes were closed, her mouth
shut, her hands rigid, and looking like the little stiff figures of
stone placed upon tombs. He examined her for a moment, and, seeing by
the slight movement of her chest that she was not dead, he placed upon
her lips the crucifix. He waited. His face preserved the majesty of
a minister of penitence, and no signs of emotion were visible when he
realised that not even a quivering had passed over the exquisite profile
of the young girl, nor in her beautiful hair. She still lived, however,
and that was sufficient for the redemption of her sins.

The Abbe then gave to Monseigneur the vessel of holy water and the
asperges brush, and while he held open before him the ritual