meafterwards that the tramp of our male feet as we came up the great stepsgave to all a thrill of expectation and awe. It was at the moment of theexposition of the Sacrament that we entered. Instinctively, in a moment,all understood--a thing which could happen nowhere but in France, whereintelligence is swift as the breath on our lips. Those who were alreadythere yielded their places to us, most of the women rising up, making asit were a ring round us, the tears running down their faces. When theSacrament was replaced upon the altar, M. le Cure, perceiving ourmeaning, began at once in his noble voice to intone the _Te Deum_.Rejecting all other music, he adopted the plain song in which all couldjoin, and with one voice, every man in unison with his brother, we sangwith him. The great Cathedral walls seemed to throb with the sound thatrolled upward, _male_ and deep, as no song has ever risen from Semur inthe memory of man. The women stood up around us, and wept and sobbedwith pride and joy. When this wonderful moment was over, and all thepeople poured forth out of the Cathedral walls into the soft evening,with stars shining above, and all the friendly lights below, there wassuch a tumult of emotion and gladness as I have never seen before. Manyof the poor women surrounded me, kissed my hand notwithstanding myresistance, and called upon God to bless me; while some of the olderpersons made remarks full of justice and feeling.
'The _bon Dieu_ is not used to such singing,' one of them cried, her oldeyes streaming with tears. 'It must have surprised the saints up inheaven!'
'It will bring a blessing,' cried another. 'It is not like our littlevoices, that perhaps only reach half-way.'
This was figurative language, yet it was impossible to doubt there wasmuch truth in it. Such a submission of our intellects, as I felt indetermining to make it, must have been pleasing to heaven. The women,they are always praying; but when we thus presented ourselves to givethanks, it meant something, a real homage; and with a feeling ofsolemnity we separated, aware that we had contented both earth andheaven.
Next morning there was a great function in the Cathedral, at which thewhole city assisted. Those who could not get admittance crowded upon thesteps, and knelt half way across the Place. It was an occasion longremembered in Semur, though I have heard many say not in itself soimpressive as the _Te Deum_ on the evening of our return. After this wereturned to our occupations, and life was resumed under its formerconditions in our city.
It might be supposed, however, that the place in which events soextraordinary had happened would never again be as it was before. Had Inot been myself so closely involved, it would have appeared to mecertain, that the streets, trod once by such inhabitants as those whofor three nights and days abode within Semur, would have always retainedsome trace of their presence; that life there would have been moresolemn than in other places; and that those families for whose advantagethe dead had risen out of their graves, would have henceforward carriedabout with them some sign of that interposition. It will seem almostincredible when I now add that nothing of this kind has happened atSemur. The wonderful manifestation which interrupted our existence haspassed absolutely as if it had never been. We had not been twelve hoursin our houses ere we had forgotten, or practically forgotten, ourexpulsion from them. Even myself, to whom everything was so vividlybrought home, I have to enter my wife's room to put aside the curtainfrom little Marie's picture, and to see and touch the olive branchwhich is there, before I can recall to myself anything that resemblesthe feeling with which I re-entered that sanctuary. My grandfather'sbureau still stands in the middle of my library, where I found it on myreturn; but I have got used to it, and it no longer affects me.Everything is as it was; and I cannot persuade myself that, for a time,I and mine were shut out, and our places taken by those who neither eatnor drink, and whose life is invisible to our eyes. Everything, I say,is as it was--every thing goes on as if it would endure for ever. Weknow this cannot be, yet it does not move us. Why, then, should theother move us? A little time, we are aware, and we, too, shall be asthey are--as shadows, and unseen. But neither has the one changed us,and neither does the other. There was, for some time, a greater respectshown to religion in Semur, and a more devout attendance at the sacredfunctions; but I regret to say this did not continue. Even in my owncase--I say it with sorrow--it did not continue. M. le Cure is anadmirable person. I know no more excellent ecclesiastic. He isindefatigable in the performance of his spiritual duties; and he has,besides, a noble and upright soul. Since the days when we suffered andlaboured together, he has been to me as a brother. Still, it isundeniable that he makes calls upon our credulity, which a man obeyswith reluctance. There are ways of surmounting this; as I see in Agnesfor one, and in M. de Bois-Sombre for another. My wife does notquestion, she believes much; and in respect to that which she cannotacquiesce in, she is silent. 'There are many things I hear you talk of,Martin, which are strange to me,' she says, 'of myself I cannot believein them; but I do not oppose, since it is possible you may have reasonto know better than I; and so with some things that we hear from M. leCure.' This is how she explains herself--but she is a woman. It is amatter of grace to yield to our better judgment. M. de Bois-Sombre hasanother way. '_Ma foi_,' he says, 'I have not the time for all yourdelicacies, my good people; I have come to see that these things are forthe advantage of the world, and it is not my business to explain them.If M. le Cure attempted to criticise me in military matters, or thee, myexcellent Martin, in affairs of business, or in the culture of yourvines, I should think him not a wise man; and in like manner, faith andreligion, these are his concern.' Felix de Bois Sombre is an excellentfellow; but he smells a little of the _mousquetaire_. I, who am neithera soldier nor a woman, I have hesitations. Nevertheless, so long as I amMaire of Semur, nothing less than the most absolute respect shall everbe shown to all truly religious persons, with whom it is my earnestdesire to remain in sympathy and fraternity, so far as that may be.
It seemed, however, a little while ago as if my tenure of this officewould not be long, notwithstanding the services which I am acknowledged,on every hand, to have done to my fellow-townsmen. It will be rememberedthat when M. le Cure and myself found Semur empty, we heard a voice ofcomplaining from the hospital of St. Jean, and found a sick man who hadbeen left there, and who grumbled against the Sisters, and accused themof neglecting him, but remained altogether unaware, in the meantime, ofwhat had happened in the city. Will it be believed that after a timethis fellow was put faith in as a seer, who had heard and beheld manythings of which we were all ignorant? It must be said that, in themeantime, there had been a little excitement in the town on the subjectof the chapel in the hospital, to which repeated reference has alreadybeen made. It was insisted on behalf of these ladies that a promise hadbeen given, taking, indeed, the form of a vow, that, as soon as we wereagain in possession of Semur, their full privileges should be restoredto them. Their advocates even went so far as to send to me a deputationof those who had been nursed in the hospital, the leader of which wasJacques Richard, who since he has been, as he says, 'converted,' thrustshimself to the front of every movement.
'Permit me to speak, M. le Maire,' he said; 'me, who was one of those somisguided as to complain, before the great lesson we have all received.The mass did not disturb any sick person who was of right dispositions.I was then a very bad subject, indeed--as, alas! M. le Maire too wellknows. It annoyed me only as all pious observances annoyed me. I am now,thank heaven, of a very different way of thinking----'
But I would not listen to the fellow. When he was a _mauvais sujet_ hewas less abhorrent to me than now.
The men were aware that when I pronounced myself so distinctly on anysubject, there was nothing more to be said, for, though gentle as alamb and open to all reasonable arguments, I am capable of making themost obstinate stand for principle; and to yield to popularsuperstition, is that worthy of a man who has been instructed? At thesame time it raised a great anger in my mind that all that should bethought of was a thing so trivial. That they should have giventhemselves, soul and body, for a little money; that they should havescoffed at a
ll that was noble and generous, both in religion and inearthly things; all that was nothing to them. And now they would insultthe great God Himself by believing that all He cared for was a littlemass in a convent chapel. What desecration! What debasement! When I wentto M. le Cure, he smiled at my vehemence. There was pain in his smile,and it might be indignation; but he was not furious like me.
'They will conquer you, my friend,' he said.
'Never,' I cried. 'Before I might have yielded. But to tell me thegates of death have been rolled back, and Heaven revealed, and the greatGod stooped down from Heaven, in order that mass should be saidaccording to the wishes of the community in the midst of the sick wards!They will never make me believe this, if I were to die for it.'
'Nevertheless, they will conquer,' M. le Cure said.
It