was the hand on which he usually wore his ring, a diamond of purest lustre,—­but on this occasion the jewel had been removed and the white, firm fingers, outlined against the pulpit edge, looked as though they had just relaxed their grasp of something that had been more or less of a trouble to retain.  Nothing perhaps is so expressive as a hand,—­ the face can disguise itself,—­even the eyes can lie,—­but the hand never.  Its shape, its movements, its attitude in repose, give a more certain clue to character and disposition than almost any other human feature.  Thus, with the Abbe, while his left hand suggested a “letting go,” his right hand, which held a small black-bound Testament implied defiance, grip, resolve and courage.  And when the people seated immediately around the pulpit lifted their eyes expectantly to the popular preacher’s face, several of the more observant noticed something in his look and manner which was unfamiliar and curiously disconcerting.  If it be true, as there is every reason to believe it is, that each human being unconsciously gives out an “aura” of his interior personality which is made more or less powerful to attract or repel by the nature of his intentions, and which affects the “aura” of those with whom he is brought in contact, then Abbe Vergniaud was this morning creating all unawares to himself a very singular impression of uneasiness.  Some of the persons thus uncomfortably influenced coughed violently in an instinctive attempt to divert or frustrate the preacher’s mood, but even the most persistent cougher must cease coughing at some time or another—­and the Abbe was evidently determined to wait for an absolute silence before he spoke.  At last silence came, and he opened the Testament.  Holding it up to the view of the congregation, he began with all that easy eloquence which the French tongue gives to a cultured speaker,—­his voice full and sonorous, reaching distinctly to every part of the crowded church.

“This,” he said, “is a small book which you all pretend to know.  It is so small a book that it can easily be read through in an hour.  It is the Testament;—­or the Last Will and Command to the world of one Jesus Christ, who was crucified on account of His Divinity more than eighteen hundred years ago.  I mention the fact, in case any of you have forgotten it!  It is generally understood that this book is the message of God and the key of Faith;—­upon it our churches and religious systems are founded;—­by its teaching we are supposed to order our conduct of life—­and yet,—­though as I have said, it is a very small book, and would not take you an hour to read it—­none of you know any thing about it!  That is a strange thing, is it not?”

Here he leaned over the pulpit edge, and his bright eyes, coldly satiric, flashed a comprehensive glance over the whole congregation.