ta, to a black wooden crucifix, which hung over the
side-board. The lad bowed too, and, bearing the cruets covered with the
finger-cloth, led the way out of the sacristy, followed by the priest,
who walked on with downcast eyes, absorbed in deep and prayerful
meditation.

II

The empty church was quite white that May morning. The bell-rope near
the confessional hung motionless once more. The little bracket light,
with its stained glass shade, burned like a crimson splotch against the
wall on the right of the tabernacle. Vincent, having set the cruets on
the credence, came back and knelt just below the altar step on the left,
while the priest, after rendering homage to the Holy Sacrament by a
genuflexion, went up to the altar and there spread out the corporal,
on the centre of which he placed the chalice. Then, having opened the
Missal, he came down again. Another bend of the knee followed, and,
after crossing himself and uttering aloud the formula, 'In the name of
the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,' he raised his joined hands to
his breast, and entered on the great divine drama, with his countenance
blanched by faith and love.

'_Introibo ad altare Dei_.'

'_Ad Deum qui loetificat juventutem meam_,' gabbled Vincent, who,
squatting on his heels, mumbled the responses of the antiphon and the
psalm, while watching La Teuse as she roved about the church.

The old servant was gazing at one of the candles with a troubled look.
Her anxiety seemed to increase while the priest, bowing down with hands
joined again, recited the _Confiteor_. She stood still, in her turn
struck her breast, her head bowed, but still keeping a watchful eye on
the taper. For another minute the priest's grave voice and the server's
stammers alternated:

'_Dominus vobiscum_.'

'_Et cum spiritu tuo_.'

Then the priest, spreading out his hands and afterwards again joining
them, said with devout compunction: '_Oremus_' (Let us pray).

La Teuse could now stand it no longer, but stepped behind the altar,
reached the guttering candle, and trimmed it with the points of her
scissors. Two large blobs of wax had already been wasted. When she came
back again putting the benches straight on her way, and making sure that
there was holy-water in the fonts, the priest, whose hands were resting
on the edge of the altar-cloth, was praying in subdued tones. And at
last he kissed the altar.

Behind him, the little church still looked wan in the p