“And it is almost unique in having none of the woeful and threatening solemnity of its noble sisters.  Scarce a demon is to be seen watching and grinning on its walls to torture souls; in a few small figures it shows indeed the variety of penance, but that is all; and within, the Virgin is above all else the Mother of Bethlehem.  Jesus, too, is more or less Her Child; He yields to Her when she entreats Him.

“It proclaims the plenitude of Her patience and charity by the length of the crypt and the breadth of the nave, which are greater than those of other churches.

“In fact, it is the mystical cathedral—­that where the Madonna is most graciously ready to receive the sinner.

“Now,” said Durtal, looking at his watch, “the Abbe Gevresin must have finished his breakfast.  It is time to take leave of him before joining the Abbe Plomb at the station.”

He crossed the forecourt of the palace and rang at the priest’s door.

“So you are sure you are going!” said Madame Bavoil, who opened the door, and admitted him to her master.

“Well, yes—­”

“I envy you,” sighed the Abbe, “for you will be present at wonderful services and hear admirable music.”

“I hope so.  And if only that could relieve the tension, could release me a little from this incoherent frame of mind in which I wander, and allow me to feel at home once more in my own soul and not in a strange place open to all the winds!—­”

“Ah, your soul wants locks and latches,” said Madame Bavoil, laughing.

“It is a public mart where every distraction meets to chatter.  I am constantly driven out, and when I want to go home again they are in possession.”

“Oh, I quite understand that.  You know the proverb, ’Who goes hunting loses his seat by the hearth.’”

“That is all very well to say, but—­”

“But, our friend, the Lord foresaw your case, when, with reference to such distractions which flutter about the soul like this, He replied to the Venerable Jeanne de Matel, who complained of such annoyances, that she should imitate the hunter, who, when he misses the big game he is seeking, seizes the smaller prey he may find.”

“Ay, but even then he must find it!”

“Go and live in peace, then,” said the Abbe.  “Do not fret yourself with wondering whether your soul is enclosed or no; and take this piece of advice:  You are accustomed—­are you not?—­to repeat prayers that you know by heart, and it is especially under those circumstances that wandering supervenes.  Well, then, set those prayers aside, and restrict yourself to following, very regularly, the prayers of the services in the convent-chapel.  You are less familiar with them, and merely to follow them you will be obliged to read them with care.  Thus you will be less likely to have a divided mind.”

“No doubt,” replied Durtal.  “But when I have not repeated the prayers I am wont to say, I feel as though I had not prayed at all.  I know that this is absurd; still, there is no faithful soul who does not know the feeling when the text of his prayers is altered.”