When the applause subsided the Bishop arose, and for an instant stood
again with that meaning smile just lighting his face. For that instant
he did not utter a word. When he did speak there was a quiver in his
voice that age had never planted and in spite of the jokes which had
preceded and the laughter which he had led, it sounded like a
forerunner of tears. He had never been called eloquent, this
kindly-faced and snow-crowned old man, but when he spoke it was always
with a gentle dignity, and a depth of sympathy and feeling that
compelled attention.

"It is a great satisfaction, my dear Fathers," he began, "to find so
many of you here to rejoice with our young friend and his devoted
people, and to thus encourage the growth of a priestly life which he
has so well begun in Alta. No one glories in his success more than I.
No one more warmly than I, his Bishop, tenders congratulations. This
is truly a day the Lord has made--this day in Alta. It is a day of
joy and gladness for priest and people. Will you pardon an old man if
he stems the tide of mirth for an instant? He could not hope to stem
it for long. On such an occasion as this it would burst the barriers,
leaving what he would show you once more submerged beneath rippling
waters and silver-tipped waves of laughter. It seems wrong even to
think of the depths where lie the bodies of the dead and the hulks of
the wrecked. But the bottom always has its treasure as well as its
tragedy. There are both a tragedy and a treasure in the story I will
tell you to-day."

"You remember Father Belmond, the first pastor of Alta? Yes! Then let
me tell you a story that your generous priestly souls will treasure as
it deserves."