"It is I" said Fabien, and he stopped, panting for breath,--then
threw his arms round his mother's neck and faced them,--"It is I--
strong and well!--thanks to God and the prayers of the Cardinal!"

For a moment there was a dead silence,--a silence of stupefied
amazement unbroken save by the joyful weeping of Martine. Then
suddenly a deep-toned bell rang from the topmost tower of Notre
Dame--and in the flame-red of the falling sun the doves that make
their homes among the pinnacles of the great Cathedral, rose
floating in cloudy circles towards the sky. One bell--and then
another--yet another!--

"The Angelus!" cried Babette dropping on her knees and folding her
hands, "The Angelus!--Mother--Martine--Henri!--Fabien!--the
Angelus!"--

Down they all knelt, a devotional group, in the porch through which
the good Cardinal had so lately passed, and the bells chimed sweetly
and melodiously as Fabien reverently repeated the Angelic Salutation
amid responses made with tears and thanksgiving, and neighbours and
townfolk hearing of the miracle came hastening to the Hotel Poitiers
to enquire into its truth, and pausing as they saw the cluster of
kneeling figures in the porch instinctively and without question
knelt also,--then as the news spread, group after group came running
and gathering together, and dropping on their knees amazed and awe-
struck, till the broad Square showed but one black mass of a
worshipping congregation under the roseate sky, their voices joining
in unison with the clear accents of one little happy child; while
behind them rose the towers of Notre Dame, and over their heads the