il of
war-history, when the car reached Albert. It was Brian who knew the
ancient legend of the place, and the modern story of the spy, which,
together, double the dramatic interest of the Bending Virgin. In the
eleventh century a shepherd boy discovered, in a miraculous way, a
statue of the Virgin. There was a far-off sound of music at night, when
he was out in search of strayed sheep, and being young he forgot his
errand in curiosity to learn whence came the mysterious chanting,
accompanied by the silver notes of a flute. The boy wandered in the
direction of the delicate sounds, and to his amazement found all the
lost flock grazing round a statue which appeared to have risen from the
earth. On that spot was built the basilica of Notre-Dame de Brebieres,
which became a place of pilgrimage. The Virgin of the Shepherds was
supposed to send her blessings far, far over the countryside, and her
gilded image, with the baby Christ in her arms, was a flaming beacon at
sunrise and sunset. Thus on her high tower the golden Lady stood when
the war began. Albert was pitilessly bombarded, and with a startling
accuracy which none could understand: yet the church itself, with its
temptingly high tower, remained intact. Through October, 1914, the
shining figure blazed against the sky, while houses fell in all quarters
of the town: but on November 1st, three bombs struck the church. They
were the first heavy drops of rain in a thunderstorm. The roof crashed
in: and presently the pedestal of the Virgin received a shattering blow.
This was on the very day when Albert discovered why for so long the
church had been immune. A spy had been safely signalling from the tower,
telling German gunners how and where to strike with the most damage to
the town. When all the factories which gave wealth to Albert, and the
best houses, had been methodically destroyed, the spy silently stole
away: and the Virgin of the Shepherds then bent over, face down, to
search for this black sheep of the fold. Ever since she with the sacred
Child in her arms has hung thus suspended in pity and blessing over
mountainous piles of wreckage which once composed the market-place. She
will not crash to earth, Albert believes, till the war is over. But so
loved is she in her posture of protection that the citizens propose to
keep her in it for ever to commemorate the war-history of Albert, when
Albert is rebuilt for future generations.

From there the gray car ran on almost