Have I not already seen the fairest of the angels dwelling in this
mire? Is this child more or less crazed than I am? Has he taken a
bolder step in the way of faith? He believes, and his belief no doubt
will lead him into some path of light like that in which I walk. But
though he is as beautiful as an angel, is he not too feeble to stand
fast in such a struggle?"

Abashed by the presence of his companion, whose voice of thunder
expressed to him his own thoughts, as lightning expresses the will of
Heaven, the boy was satisfied to gaze at the stars with a lover's
eyes. Overwhelmed by a luxury of sentiment, which weighed on his
heart, he stood there timid and weak--a midge in the sunbeams.
Sigier's discourse had proved to them the mysteries of the spiritual
world; the tall, old man was to invest them with glory; the lad felt
them in himself, though he could in no way express them. The three
represented in living embodiment Science, Poetry, and Feeling.



On going into the house, the Exile shut himself into his room, lighted
the inspiring lamp, and gave himself over to the ruthless demon of
Work, seeking words of the silence and ideas of the night. Godefroid
sat down in his window sill, by turns gazing at the moon reflected in
the water, and studying the mysteries of the sky. Lost in one of the
trances that were frequent to him, he traveled from sphere to sphere,
from vision to vision, listening for obscure rustlings and the voices
of angels, and believing that he heard them; seeing, or fancying that
he saw, a divine radiance in which he lost himself; striving to attain
the far-away goal, the source of all light, the fount of all harmony.