with the sun; for beside one of the windows a large rowan tree shot up,
thrusting some of its branches through the shattered panes and
stretching out leafy buds as if to take a peep within; while through the
fissures of the great door the weeds on the threshold threatened to
encroach upon the nave. Amid all this quickening life, the big Christ,
still in shadow, alone displayed signs of death, the sufferings of
ochre-daubed and lake-bespattered flesh. A sparrow raised himself up for
a moment at the edge of a hole, took a glance, then flew away; but only
to reappear almost immediately when with noiseless wing he dropped
between the benches before the Virgin's altar. A second sparrow
followed; and soon from all the boughs of the rowan tree came others
that calmly hopped about the flags.

'_Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, Dominus Deus Sabaoth_,' said the priest in
a low tone, whilst slightly stooping.

Vincent rang the little bell thrice; and the sparrows, scared by the
sudden tinkling, flew off with such a mighty buzz of wings that La
Teuse, who had just gone back into the sacristy, came out again,
grumbling; 'The little rascals! they will mess everything. I'll bet that
Mademoiselle Desiree has been here again to scatter bread-crumbs for
them.'

The dread moment was at hand. The body and the blood of a God were about
to descend upon the altar. The priest kissed the altar-cloth, clasped
his hands, and multiplied signs of the cross over host and chalice. The
prayers of the canon of the mass now fell from his lips in a very
ecstasy of humility and gratitude. His attitude, his gestures, the
inflections of his voice, all expressed his consciousness of his
littleness, his emotion at being selected for so great a task. Vincent