mass, Hubertine opened before her the old chest in the working-room,
where she kept the fine gold thread. She held up the little book, then,
placing it in that back part of one of the drawers, said: "Look! I have
put it here. I will not hide it, but leave it where you can take it if
you ever wish to do so. It is best that you should see it, and remember
where it is."

On entering the church that day, Angelique found herself again under the
doorway of Saint Agnes. During the week there had been a partial thaw,
then the cold weather had returned to so intense a degree that the
snow which had half melted on the statues had congealed itself in large
bunches or in icicles. Now, the figures seemed dressed in transparent
robes of ice, with lace trimmings like spun glass. Dorothea was holding
a torch, the liquid droppings of which fell upon her hands. Cecilia
wore a silver crown, in which glistened the most brilliant of pearls.
Agatha's nude chest was protected by a crystal armour. And the scenes
in the tympanum, the little virgins in the arches, looked as if they had
been there for centuries, behind the glass and jewels of the shrine of
a saint. Agnes herself let trail behind her her court mantle, threaded
with light and embroidered with stars. Her lamb had a fleece of
diamonds, and her palm-branch had become the colour of heaven. The whole
door was resplendent in the purity of intense cold.

Angelique recollected the night she had passed there under the
protection of these saints. She raised her head and smiled upon them.



CHAPTER II