"No, no!--" and Martine again tossed her arms aloft in a kind of
frenzy. "No--but look you!--there IS a God! Yes!--we thought He was
an invention of the priests--but no--He is a real God after all!--Oh
mes enfants!" and she tried to grasp the amazed Henri and Babette in
her arms, "You are two of His angels!--you took my boy to the
Cardinal--"

The children glanced at each other.

"Yes--yes!" they murmured breathlessly.

"Well! and see what has happened!--See!--Here comes Fabien--!"

And as she spoke exultantly with an excitement that seemed to
inspire every nerve of her body, a little figure came running
lightly towards them,--the light strong figure of a boy with fair
curls flying in the wind, and a face in which the large, grey,
astonished eyes flashed with an almost divine joy.

"Mother!--Mother!" he cried.

Madame Patoux felt as though the heavens had suddenly opened to let
the angels down. Was this Fabien? Fabien, who had hobbled painfully
upon crutches all his life, and had left her house in his usual
condition an hour or so ago?--This straight-limbed child, running
with the graceful and easy movement of a creature who had never
known a day's pain?

"Fabien, is it thou?" almost screamed Henri, "Speak, is it thou?"