“Yes,” murmured Fabien gravely, but two large tears welled up in his plaintive eyes as the faint glimmer of hope he had encouraged as to the possibility of his being miraculously cured by the touch of a saintly Cardinal, expired in the lonely darkness of his little afflicted soul.

“That is well,” continued the Cardinal kindly—­“And now, since it is so difficult for you to kneel, you shall stay where you are in my arms,—­so!”—­and he set him on his knee in a position of even greater comfort than before, “You shall simply shut your eyes, and clasp your little hands together as I put them here,”—­and as he spoke he crossed the child’s hands on his silver crucifix-"And I will ask our Lord to come and make you well,—­for of myself I can do nothing.”

At these words Henri and Babette glanced at each other questioningly, and then as if simultaneously moved by some inexplicable emotion, dropped on their knees,—­their mother, too stout and unwieldy to do this with either noiselessness or satisfaction to herself, was contented to bend her head as low as she could get it.  Manuel remained standing.  Leaning against the Cardinal’s chair, his eyes fixed on the crippled Fabien, he had the aspect of a young Angel of compassion, whose sole immortal desire was to lift the burden of sorrow and pain from the lives of suffering humanity.  And after a minute or two passed in silent meditation, the Cardinal laid his hands tenderly on Fabien’s fair curly head and prayed aloud.

“Oh merciful Christ!  Most pitying and gentle Redeemer!—­to Whom in the days of Thy sacred life on earth, the sick and suffering and lame and blind were brought, and never sent away unhealed or uncomforted; consider, we beseech Thee, the sufferings of this Thy little child, deprived of all the joys which Thou hast made so sweet for those who are strong and straight in their youth, and who have no ailment to depress their courage or to quench the ardour of their aspiring souls.  Look compassionately upon him, oh gentle King and Master of all such children!—­and even as Thou wert a child Thyself, be pleased to heal him of his sad infirmity.  For, if Thou wilt, Thou canst make this bent body straight and these withered muscles strong,—­from death itself Thou canst ordain life, and nothing is impossible to Thee!  But above all things, gracious Saviour, we do pray Thee so to lift and strengthen this child’s soul, that if it is destined he should still be called upon to bear his present pain and trouble, grant to him such perfection in his inward spirit that he may prove worthy to be counted among Thy angels in the bright Hereafter.  To Thy care, and to Thy comfort, and to Thy healing, great Master, we commend him, trusting him entirely to Thy mercy, with perfect resignation to Thy Divine Will.  For the sake and memory of Thy most holy childhood mercifully help and bless this child!  Amen!”