A deep silence ensued.  Only the slow ticking of the big old-fashioned clock in Madame Patoux’s kitchen, which was next door to the room they were all in, could be distinctly heard.  Henri and Babette were the first to stir.  They got up from their knees, brushed the dust of the floor from their clothes, and stared curiously at Fabien.  Was a miracle going to happen?  Fabien, however--still resting against the Cardinal’s breast, with his meagre little hands clasped tight on the Cardinal’s crucifix, kept his eyes solemnly shut and gave no sign, till the Cardinal himself gently moved him and set him down.  Then he glanced around him bewilderingly, tottered, and would have fallen had he not been given his little crutch for support.  Very pathetic was the smile which then quivered on his pale lips,—­very doleful was the shake of his head as he prepared to hobble away.

“Thank you very much, Monseigneur,” he murmured gently—­“I felt almost cured while you were praying,—­but I am afraid it is no use!  You see there are so many miserable people in the world,—­many cripples, too,—­I am not the only one.  Our Lord must have enough to do if He is asked to heal them all!  But I am sure you have done everything you can for me, and I am grateful to you, Monseigneur.  Good-bye!”

“Good-bye, my child!” and the Cardinal, strongly moved by the sight of the little helpless twisted figure, and painfully impressed too by the sense of his own entire powerlessness to remove the cause of the trouble, bent down and kissed him—­“Believe me, if the giving of my own life could make you strong, you should have that life willingly.  May God bless and heal you!”

At that moment Manuel moved from the place he had kept near the Cardinal’s chair.  With a light, eager step forward, he went up to the little cripple, and putting his arms round him kissed him on the forehead.

“Good-bye, dear little brother!” he said smiling—­“Do not be sad!  Have patience!  In all the universe, among all the millions and millions of worlds, there is never a pure and unselfish prayer that the great good God does not answer!  Be sure of that!  Take courage, dear little brother!  You will soon be well!”

Fabien stared, half amazed, at the gentle young face that shone upon him with such an expression of hope and tenderness.

“You are very kind,” he said—­“And you are just a boy yourself,—­so you can perhaps guess how it must feel not to be like other boys who can run and leap and walk for miles and miles through the fields and the green shady forests where the birds sing,—­and where there is so much to see and think about,—­when one is lame one cannot go far you know—­and then there is my mother—­she is very sad about me,—­and it will be hard for her if I live to be a man and still can do nothing to help her . . .”

His weak voice broke, and two large tears filled his eyes and brimmed over, trickling slowly down his pale cheeks.  Manuel took his hand and pressed it encouragingly.