air was
playing round about me, stirring gently in my hair, and drying the drops
of perspiration on my brow. It seemed to approach, and then again to
withdraw, breathing now softly and sweetly in the distance, and now
returning, as if to give me strength and courage to rise.

"I would not, however, do so as yet; for I felt myself, as I lay, under
the influence of a pleasure quite new to me; and listened, in a kind
of peaceful aberration, to the gentle murmurs of the summer wind, as it
breathed on me through the closed window-blinds above me. Then I fancied
I heard a voice that spoke to me from the end of the sacristy:
it whispered so low that I could not catch the words. I remained
motionless, and gave it my whole attention. At last I heard, distinctly,
the following sentence:--'Spirit of Truth, raise up these victims of
ignorance and imposture.' 'Father Hegesippus,' said I, in a weak voice,
'is that you who are returning to me?' But no one answered. I lifted
myself on my hands and knees, I listened again, but I heard nothing. I
got up completely, and looked about me: I had fallen so near to the
only door in this little room, that none, after the departure of the
confessor, could have entered it without passing over me; besides, the
door was shut, and only opened from the inside by a strong lock of the
ancient shape. I touched it, and assured myself that it was closed. I
was seized with terror, and, for some moments, did not dare to move.
Leaning against the door, I looked round, and endeavored to see into
the gloom in which the angles of the room were enveloped. A pale light,
which came from an upper window, half closed, was seen to be trembling
in the midst of the apartment. The wind beat the shutter to and fro,
and enlarged or diminished the space through which the light issued. The
objects which were in this half light--the praying-desk, surmounted by
its skull--a few books lying on the benches--a surplice hanging against
the wall--seemed to move with the shadow of the foliage that the air
agitated behind the window. When I thought I was alone, I felt ashamed
of my former timidity; I made the sign of the cross, and was about to
move forward in order to open the shutter altogether, but a deep sigh
came from the praying-desk, and kept me nailed to my place. And yet I
saw the desk distinctly enough to be sure that no person was near it.
Then I had an idea which gave me courage. Some person, I thought, is
behind the shu