I follow her through the church and into the vestry where a
little nun presses my hands and calls me by name. Once, she was my
escort through the Monastery at St. Albert, over by the Sturgeon River.
Of course I remember her. She is the china shepherdess in black who
says "Please" instead of "What?" and who comes from Mon'real. Also she
lisps, but what odds? Plutarch tells us that Alcibiades lisped and
that it gave a grace and persuasiveness to his discourse.

She presents me to the other sisters, none of whom speak English, and
invites me out to the monastery to visit. All of the sisters look
middling healthy, not having the parchment-like pallor of the city nuns.

The service, she explains, is the Finding of the Holy Cross. I must
not think it idolatry when they do veneration, indeed, I must not.
"Eet is what you call--Ah, Madame! I cannot find the word--eet is what
you call--" "A Symbol," I ask. "Oui, Oui, a symbol!"

With many gesticulations and no small difficulty she tells me how the
Empress Helena, mother of the great Constantine, once had a heavenly
dream which enabled her to discover the very piece of ground wherein
the holy cross was hidden away. It lay under two temples where
heathens prayed to Jupiter and Venus instead of to Jehovah. She caused
these temples to be torn down so as not one stone was left, and
underneath were found three crosses. Being doubtful as to which was
the cross of the Lord Christ, the Empress had all three applied to the
body of a dying woman. The first two crosses had no effect (it was the
good Bishop Macarius, you must know, who helped her), but, at the touch
of the third, the dying woman rose up perfectly whole.

This is a story worth lingering on, and the little nun would tell me
more about it, only the celebrant priest has come into the vestry and
talks with us before he goes to the basement to change his vestments.

They are impressive garments which he wears, but one might imagine
their proving correspondingly oppressive. Kryzanowski is the wretched
name of him. He is a large, fair man, this priest, in the full force
of life, with an unmistakable air of distinction. On a snap judgment,
I should place to his credit the ability to deal with a supreme
situation. He is a priest of the Uniat Church, which church, so far as
I may understand, is a compromise between the Greek Orthodox and the
Roman Catholic, the compromise consisting of a prayer for the Pope
inste