Riders of the Silences




CHAPTER 1

It seemed that Father Anthony gathered all the warmth of the short
northern summer and kept it for winter use, for his good nature was an
actual physical force. From his ruddy face beamed such a kindliness
that people reached out toward him as they might extend their hands
toward a comfortable fire.

All the labors of his work as an inspector of Jesuit institutions
across the length and breadth of Canada could not lessen the good
father's enthusiasm; his smile was as indefatigable as his critical
eyes. The one looked sharply into every corner of a room and every
nook and hidden cranny of thoughts and deeds; the other veiled the
criticism and soothed the wounds of vanity.

On this day, however, the sharp eyes grew a little less keen and
somewhat wider, while that smile was fixed rather by habit than
inclination. In fact, his expression might be called a frozen
kindliness as he looked across the table to Father Victor.

It required a most indomitable geniality, indeed, to outface the rigid