ich comes of a regulated existence, gentle
customs, and harmony of nature in those who surround us. At the end of
four months, during which time Godefroid heard neither a loud voice
nor an argument, he could not remember that he had ever been, if not as
happy, at least as tranquil and contented. He now judged soundly of the
world, seeing it from afar. At last, the desire he had felt for months
to be a sharer in the work of these mysterious persons became a passion.
Without being great philosophers we can all understand the force which
passions acquire in solitude.

Thus it happened that one day--a day made solemn by the power of the
spirit within him--Godefroid again went up to see the good old Alain,
him whom Madame de la Chanterie called her "lamb," the member of
the community who seemed to Godefroid the least imposing, the most
approachable member of the fraternity, intending to obtain from him
some definite light on the conditions of the sacred work to which these
brothers of God were dedicated. The allusions made to a period of trial
seemed to imply an initiation, which he was now desirous of receiving.
His curiosity had not been satisfied by what the venerable old man had
already told him as to the causes which led to the work of Madame de la
Chanterie; he wanted to know more.

For the third time Godefroid entered Monsieur Alain's room, just as the
old man was beginning his evening reading of the "Imitation of Jesus
Christ." This time the kindly soul did not restrain a smile when he
saw the young man, and he said at once, without allowing Godefroid to
speak:--

"Why do you come to me, my dear boy; why not go to Madame? I am the most
ignorant, the most imperfect, the least spiritual of our number. For the
last three days," he added, with a shrewd little glance, "Madame and my
other friends have read your heart."

"What have they read there?" asked Godefroid.

"Ah!" replied the goodman, without evasion, "they see in you a rather
artless desire to belong to our little flock. But this sentiment is not
yet an ardent vocation. Yes," he continued, replying to a gesture of
Godefroid's, "you have more curiosity than fervor. You are not yet so
detached from your old ideas that you do not look forward to something
adventurous, romantic, as they say, in the incidents of our life."

Godefroid could not keep himself from blushing.

"You see a likeness between our occupations and those of the caliphs of
the 'Arabian Nigh