of the thorns which attacked his calves. He had that within him which
spurred him on, and rendered him unconscious of the accidents on his
path. Never, during his twenty-five years of priestly office, had a more
difficult question embarrassed his conscience. The case was a grave one,
and moreover, so urgent that the Abbe was quite at a loss how to proceed.
How was it that he never had foreseen that such a combination of
circumstances might occur? A priest of a more fervent spirit, who had
the salvation of his flock more at heart, could not have been taken so
unprepared. Yes; that was surely the cause! The profane occupations in
which he had allowed himself to take so much enjoyment, had distracted
his watchfulness and obscured his perspicacity. Providence was now
punishing him for his lukewarmness, by interposing across his path this
stumbling-block, which was probably sent to him as a salutary warning,
but which he saw no way of getting over.

While he was thus meditating and reproaching himself, the thrushes were
calling to one another from the branches of their favorite trees; whole
flights of yellowhammers burst forth from the hedges red with haws; but
he took no heed of them and did not even give a single thought to his
neglected nests and snares.

He went straight on, stumbling over the juniper bushes, and wondering
what he should say when he reached the farm, and how he should begin.
Sometimes he addressed himself, thus: "Have I the right to speak? What a
revelation! And to a young girl! Oh, Lord, lead me in the straight way
of thy truth, and instruct me in the right path!"

As he continued piously repeating this verse of the Psalmist, in order to
gain spiritual strength, the gray roofs of La Thuiliere rose before him;
he could hear the crowing of the cocks and the lowing of the cows in the