e _foun_', in a cellar at Rheims!" When a
drum-fire of questions fell on him he grew reticent and answered
quietly: "We have only that by firz' letter. Full particular' pretty
soon, perchanze to-morrow."

"Then to-morrow we'll come hear ab-out it," Beloiseau said, "and tell
ab-out the movie. Mme. De l'Isle she's also got fine news, what she
cann' tell biffo' biccause"--he waved to Mme. De l'Isle to say why, but
her husband spoke for her.

"Biccause," he said, "'tis all in a pigture, war pigture, on a New York
Sunday paper, and of co'se we coul'n' stop under street lamp for that;
and with yo' permission"--to Mme. Castanado--"we'll show that firz' of
all to Scipion."

Beloiseau put on glasses and looked. "'General Joffre--'" he began to
read.

"No, no! not that! This one, where you know the _general_ only by the
back of his head."

"Ah--ah, yes; 'Two _aviateur_' riceiving from General Joffre'--my God!
De l'Isle--my God! madame,"--Scipion pounded his breast with the
paper--"they are yo' son and mine!"

The company rushed to his elbows. "My faith! Castanado, there are
their name'! and 'For destrugtion of their eighteenth enemy aeroplane,
under circumstance' calling for exceptional coolnezz and intrepid-ity!'"

There was great and general rejoicing and some quite pardonable
boasting, under cover of which Melanie and her mother slipped out by
the inside way, without mention of the young Dubroca, his prisoners,
sickness, or letter, except to his father and mother, who told of him
more openly when the Alexandres were safely gone. That brought fresh
gladness and praise, a fair share of which was for Melanie.

So presently the remaining company vanished, leaving Mme. Castanado
free to embrace her kneeling husband and boast again the power of
prayer.

XLV

The cathedral that year was undergoing repairs.

Its cypress-log foundations, which had kept sound from colonial days in
a soil always wet, had begun to decay when a new drainage system began
to dry it out. Fact, but also allegory.

It may have been in connection with this work, or with some change in
the house of the Discalceated Sisters of Mt. Carmel, or of the
archbishop, or of St. Augustine's Church, that a certain priest of
exceptional taste, Beloiseau's father confessor, dropped in on him to
order an ornamental wrought-iron grille for the upper half of a new
door. While looking at patterns he asked:

"And what is the latest word from your