"Oh! it's just as they like!" he cried; "it's no work of mine, you know;
it's simply an order which I'm executing just as a mason builds a wall.
There's no religious art left, it has been killed by stupidity and
disbelief. Ah! if social or human art could only revive, how glorious to
be one of the first to bear the tidings!"

Then he paused. Where could the youngsters, Antoine and Lise, have got
to, he wondered. He threw the door wide open, and, a little distance
away, among the materials littering the waste ground, one could see
Antoine's tall figure and Lise's short slender form standing out against
the immensity of Paris, which was all golden amidst the sun's farewell.
The young man's strong arm supported Lise, who with this help walked
beside him without feeling any fatigue. Slender and graceful, like a girl
blossoming into womanhood, she raised her eyes to his with a smile of
infinite gratitude, which proclaimed that she belonged to him for
evermore.

"Ah! they are coming back," said Jahan. "The miracle is now complete, you
know. I'm delighted at it. I did not know what to do with her; I had even
renounced all attempts to teach her to read; I left her for days together
in a corner, infirm and tongue-tied like a lack-wit. . . . But your
brother came and took her in hand somehow or other. She listened to him
and understood him, and began to read and write with him, and grow
intelligent and gay. Then, as her limbs still gained no suppleness, and
she remained infirm, ailing and puny, he began by carrying her here, and
then helped her to walk in such wise that she can now do so by herself.
In a few weeks' time she has positively grown and become quite charming.
Yes, I assure you, it is second birth, real creation. Just look at them!"