Some one had come up behind as we were talking.  When I heard his voice I smiled, notwithstanding my despair.  It was natural that the Church should come to the woman’s aid.  But I would not refuse to give ear to M. le Cure, who had proved himself a man, had he been ten times a priest.

’I have not heard what Madame has been saying, M. le Maire, neither would I interpose but for your question.  You ask of what truth have we the proof here?  It is the Unseen that has revealed itself.  Do we see anything, you and I?  Nothing, nothing, but a cloud.  But that which we cannot see, that which we know not, that which we dread—­look! it is there.’

I turned unconsciously as he pointed with his hand.  Oh, heaven, what did I see!  Above the cloud that wrapped Semur there was a separation, a rent in the darkness, and in mid heaven the Cathedral towers, pointing to the sky.  I paid no more attention to M. le Cure.  I sent forth a shout that roused all, even the weary line of the patrol that was marching slowly with bowed heads round the walls; and there went up such a cry of joy as shook the earth.  ‘The towers, the towers!’ I cried.  These were the towers that could be seen leagues off, the first sign of Semur; our towers, which we had been born to love like our father’s name.  I have had joys in my life, deep and great.  I have loved, I have won honours, I have conquered difficulty; but never had I felt as now.  It was as if one had been born again.

When we had gazed upon them, blessing them and thanking God, I gave orders that all our company should be called to the tent, that we might consider whether any new step could now be taken:  Agnes with the other women sitting apart on one side and waiting.  I recognised even in the excitement of such a time that theirs was no easy part.  To sit there silent, to wait till we had spoken, to be bound by what we decided, and to have no voice—­yes, that was hard.  They thought they knew better than we did:  but they were silent, devouring us with their eager eyes.  I love one woman more than all the world; I count her the best thing that God has made; yet would I not be as Agnes for all that life could give me.  It was her part to be silent, and she was so, like the angel she is, while even Jacques Richard had the right to speak. Mon Dieu! but it is hard, I allow it; they have need to be angels.  This thought passed through my mind even at the crisis which had now arrived.  For at such moments one sees everything, one thinks of everything, though it is only after that one remembers what one has seen and thought.  When my fellow-citizens gathered together (we were now less than a hundred in number, so many had gone from us), I took it upon myself to speak.  We were a haggard, worn-eyed company, having had neither shelter nor sleep nor even food, save in hasty snatches.  I stood at the door of the tent and they below, for the ground sloped a little.  Beside me were M. le Cure, M. de Bois-Sombre, and one or two others of the chief citizens.  ‘My friends,’ I said, ’you have seen that a new circumstance has occurred.  It is not within our power to tell what its meaning is, yet it must be a symptom of good.  For my own part, to see these towers makes the air lighter.  Let us think of the Church as we may, no one can deny that the towers of Semur are dear to our hearts.’