"She was a farmer's lass, a peasant like yourself. She would
speak to you, gladly and kindly, if you saw her, and in your own
language, too. Trust her."

"But I do not know enough about her."

"Listen, Pierre. I have thought for you. I will appoint the first
part of your penance. You shall take the risk of being recognized
and caught. You shall go down to the village and visit the places
that belong to her--her basilica, her house, her church. Then you
shall come back here and wait until you know--until you surely know
what you must do. Will you promise this?"

Pierre had risen and looked up at the priest with tear-stained
face. But his eyes were quieter. "Yes, Father, I can promise you
this much faithfully."

"Now I must go my way. Farewell, my son. Peace in war be with
you." He held out his hand.

Pierre took it reverently. "And with you, Father," he murmured.





III

THE ABSOLVING DREAM