“Yes, father,” said Gabriel, involuntarily casting down his eyes before the large, glittering gray pupil of his superior.

“And I also have matters of great importance to communicate to you.  Listen to me first; you can speak afterwards.”

“I listen, father.”

“It is about twelve years ago, my dear son,” said Father d’Aigrigny, affectionately, “that the confessor of your adopted mother, addressing himself to me through M. Rodin, called my attention to yourself, by reporting the astonishing progress you had made at the school of the Brothers.  I soon found, indeed, that your excellent conduct, your gentle, modest character, and your precocious intelligence, were worthy of the most tender interest.  From that moment I kept my eyes upon you, and at the end of some time, seeing that you did not fall off, it appeared to me that there was something more in you than the stuff that makes a workman.  We agreed with your adopted mother, and through my intervention, you were admitted gratuitously to one of the schools of our Company.  Thus one burden the less weighed upon the excellent woman who had taken charge of you, and you received from our paternal care all the benefits of a religious education.  Is not this true, my dear son?”

“It is true, father,” answered Gabriel, casting down his eyes.

“As you grew up, excellent and rare virtues displayed themselves in your character.  Your obedience and mildness were above all exemplary.  You made rapid progress in your studies.  I knew not then to what career you wished to devote yourself, but I felt certain that, in every station of life, you would remain a faithful son of the Church.  I was not deceived in my hopes, or rather, my dear son, you surpassed them all.  Learning, by a friendly communication, that your adopted mother ardently desired to see you take orders, you acceded generously and religiously to the wish of the excellent woman to whom you owed so much.  But as the Lord is always just in His recompenses, He willed that the most touching work of gratitude you could show to your adopted mother, should at the same time be divinely profitable by making you one of the militant members of our holy Church.”

At these words, Gabriel could not repress a significant start, as he remembered Frances’ sad confidences.  But he restrained himself, whilst Rodin stood leaning with his elbow on the corner of the chimney-piece, continuing to examine him with singular and obstinate attention.

Father d’Aigrigny resumed:  “I do not conceal from you, my dear son, that your resolution filled me with joy.  I saw in you one of the future lights of the Church, and I was anxious to see it shine in the midst of our Company.  You submitted courageously to our painful and difficult tests; you were judged worthy of belonging to us, and, after taking in my presence the irrevocable and sacred oath, which binds you for ever to our Company for the greater