CHAPTER XV. THE LONG VACATION.

ares,”saidhe.“Ihavenothadsuchacaseasyoursbefore:ordinarilyweknowourroutine,andarepreparedbutthismakesagreatbreakinthecommoncourseofconfession.Iamhardlyfurnishedwithcounselfittingthecircumstances.” Ofcourse,Ihadnotexpectedhewouldbebutthemerereliefofcommunicationinanearwhichwashumanandsentient,yetconsecrated—themerepouringoutofsomeportionoflongaccumulating,longpent-uppainintoavesselwhenceitcouldnotbeagaindiffused—haddonemegood.Iwasalreadysolaced. “MustIgo,father?”Iaskedofhimashesatsilent. “Mydaughter,”hesaidkindly—andIamsurehewasakindman:hehadacompassionateeye—“forthepresentyouhadbettergo:butIassureyouyourwordshavestruckme.Confession,likeotherthings,isapttobecomeformalandtrivialwithhabit.Youhavecomeandpouredyourheartoutathingseldomdone.Iwouldfainthinkyourcaseover,andtakeitwithmetomyoratory.WereyouofourfaithIshouldknowwhattosay—amindsotossedcanfindreposebutinthebosomofretreat,andthepunctualpracticeofpiety.Theworld,itiswellknown,hasnosatisfactionforthatclassofnatures.Holymenhavebiddenpenitentslikeyoutohastentheirpathupwardbypenance,self-denial,anddifficultgoodworks.Tearsaregiventhemhereformeatanddrink—breadofafflictionandwatersofaffliction—theirrecompencecomeshereafter.ItismyownconvictionthattheseimpressionsunderwhichyouaresmartingaremessengersfromGodtobringyoubacktothetrueChurch.Youweremadeforourfaith:dependuponitourfaithalonecouldhealandhelpyou—Protestantismisaltogethertoodry,cold,prosaicforyou.ThefurtherIlookintothismatter,themoreplainlyIseeitisentirelyoutofthecommonorderofthings.OnnoaccountwouldIlosesightofyou.Go,mydaughter,forthepresentbutreturntomeagain.” Iroseandthankedhim.Iwaswithdrawingwhenhesignedmetoreturn. “Youmustnotcometothischurch,”saidhe:“Iseeyouareill,andthischurchistoocoldyoumustcometomyhouse:Ilive——”(andhegavemehisaddress).“Bethereto-morrowmorningatten.” Inreplytothisappointment,Ionlybowedandpullingdownmyveil,andgatheringroundmemycloak,Iglidedaway. DidI,doyousuppose,reader,contemplateventuringagainwithinthatworthypriest’sreach?AssoonshouldIhavethoughtofwalkingintoaBabylonishfurnace.Thatpriesthadarmswhichcouldinfluenceme:hewasnaturallykind,withasentimentalFrenchkindness,towhosesoftnessIknewmyselfnotwhollyimpervious.Withoutrespectingsomesortsofaffection,therewashardlyanysorthavingafibreofrootinreality,whichIcouldrelyonmyforcewhollytowithstand.HadIgonetohim,hewouldhaveshownmeallthatwastender,andcomforting,andgentle,inthehonestPopishsuperstition.Thenhewouldhavetriedtokindle,blowandstirupinmethezealofgoodworks.Iknownothowitwouldallhaveended.WeallthinkourselvesstronginsomepointsweallknowourselvesweakinmanytheprobabilitiesarethathadIvisitedNumero10,RuedesMages,atthehouranddayappointed,Imightjustnow,insteadofwritingthishereticnarrative,becountingmybeadsinthecellofacertainCarmeliteconventontheBoulevardofCrécy,inVillette.TherewassomethingofFénélonaboutthatbenignoldpriestandwhatevermostofhisbrethrenmaybe,andwhateverImaythinkofhisChurchandcreed(andIlikeneither),ofhimselfImusteverretainagratefulrecollection.HewaskindwhenIneededkindnesshedidmegood.MayHeavenblesshim! Twilighthadpassedintonight,andthelampswerelitinthestreetsereIissuedfromthatsombrechurch.ToturnbackwasnowbecomepossibletomethewildlongingtobreathethisOctoberwindonthelittlehillfarwithoutthecitywallshadceasedtobeanimperativeimpulse,andwassoftenedintoawishwithwhichReasoncouldcope:sheputitdown,andIturned,asIthought,totheRueFossette.ButIhadbecomeinvolvedinapartofthecitywithwhichIwasnotfamiliaritwastheoldpart,andfullofnarrowstreetsofpicturesque,ancient,andmoulderinghouses.Iwasmuchtooweaktobeverycollected,andIwasstilltoocarelessofmyownwelfareandsafetytobecautiousIgrewembarrassedIgotimmeshedinanetworkofturnsunknown.Iwaslostandhadnoresolutiontoaskguidanceofanypassenger. Ifthestormhadlulledalittleatsunset,itmadeupnowforlosttime.Strongandhorizontalthunderedthecurrentofthewindfromnorth-westtosouth-eastitbroughtrainlikespray,andsometimesasharphail,likeshot:itwascoldandpiercedmetothevitals.Ibentmyheadtomeetit,butitbeatmeback.MyheartdidnotfailatallinthisconflictIonlywishedthatIhadwingsandcouldascendthegale,spreadandreposemypinionsonitsstrength,careerinitscourse,sweepwhereitswept.Whilewishingthis,IsuddenlyfeltcolderwherebeforeIwascold,andmorepowerlesswherebeforeIwasweak.Itriedtoreachtheporchofagreatbuildingnear,butthemassoffrontageandthegiantspireturnedblackandvanishedfrommyeyes.InsteadofsinkingonthestepsasIintended,Iseemedtopitchheadlongdownanabyss.Iremembernomore.