His words rose with the incense to the arches of the old church, but his soul remained below, fluttering round that fair young girl, as if to envelop her with embraces.

When he had dismissed the faithful with the sacramental words Ite missa est, he felt a momentary confusion and he felt his knees tremble.  He was afraid of himself, for he saw the Captain’s daughter rise from her seat and slowly make her way to the confessional.

What!  It was perfectly true then, she had asked for his counsel, and while he, the priest, was hesitating and seeking where he could converse with her without exposing himself to the brutal invective of the father or the senseless scandals of the village, this simple girl had found, without any aid from him, the safest spot, the sanctuary of which he had inwardly dreamed.

He was then about to listen all alone to the divine accents of that charming mouth; to see her kneeling before him, her face wreathed with a modest blush,—­before him who had wished to kiss her foot-prints.

Oh, God supreme! who could depict his transports, his emotion, the thrill which ran through all his frame.  She, she so near to him, so near that her sweet breath caresses his face like a breeze come from heaven.

He felt wild with joy.  But she also is affected, she also trembles, and beneath her palpitating breast, he seems to hear the beatings of her heart.  What passed?  What avowal did this maiden of ardent feeling make to this hot-passioned man?  There is one of those mysteries which remain for ever buried between priest and woman, between penitent and confessor.  What they said to one another no one knows, but from that confessional into which he entered pensive, wavering, it is true, but still contending, he went out with his face radiant, and his heart intoxicated with love.

XXV.

LOVE.

“All loves around us:  all around is heard, Hard by the warbler’s quivering kiss, That voiceless song of flowers, which the lark, by love distracted, to his mate translates.”

  EMILE DARIO (Sonnets).

He returned to the parsonage with a light step, hearing the birds singing in the lime-trees the same joyous song which his own heart was singing.  He breakfasted with a good appetite, smiled at his servant, and gave pleasant answers to her questions.

It seemed to him that a new world was opening.  New ideas sprang up in him, and he discovered sensations till then unknown.

He felt better; life smiled upon him, and all the things of life.

The past had altogether vanished; the present was radiant, the future was laden with rosy dreams.

That same morning he had risen as usual, with no settled wish, aimless and hopeless.  Till then, he had acted like a machine, hardly knowing whither he went, following his road by chance, walking onwards in the line which had been traced out for him, with no relish, full of weariness and sadness.