s evolution on the day when it abolishes Christianity,
and places the Gospel among the works of the wise, without taking it any
longer as its absolute and final law."

But Abbe Rose raised his trembling hands: "Be quiet, be quiet, my child!"
he cried; "you are blaspheming! I knew that doubt distracted you; but I
thought you so patient, so able to bear suffering, that I relied on your
spirit of renunciation and resignation. What can have happened to make
you leave the Church in this abrupt and violent fashion? I no longer
recognise you. Sudden passion has sprung up in you, an invincible force
seems to carry you away. What is it? Who has changed you, tell me?"

Pierre listened in astonishment. "No," said he, "I assure you, I am such
as you have known me, and in all this there is but an inevitable result
and finish. Who could have influenced me, since nobody has entered my
life? What new feeling could transform me, since I find none in me? I am
the same as before, the same assuredly."

Still there was a touch of hesitation in his voice. Was it really true
that there had been no change within him? He again questioned himself,
and there came no clear answer; decidedly, he would find nothing. It was
all but a delightful awakening, an overpowering desire for life, a
longing to open his arms widely enough to embrace everyone and
everything indeed, a breeze of joy seemed to raise him from the ground
and carry him along.

Although Abbe Rose was too innocent of heart to understand things
clearly, he again shook his head and thought of the snares which the
Devil is ever setting for men. He was quite overwhelmed by Pierre's
defection. Continuing his efforts to win him back, he made the mistake of
advising him to consult Monseigneur Martha, for he hoped that a prelate
of such high authority would find the words necessary to restore him to
his faith. Pierre, however, boldly replied that if he was leaving the
Church it was partly because it comprised such a man as Martha, such an
artisan of deception and despotism, one who turned religion into corrupt
diplomacy, and dreamt of winning men back to God by dint of ruses.
Thereupon Abbe Rose, rising to his feet, could find no other argument in
his despair than that of pointing to the basilica which stood beside
them, square, huge and massive, and still waiting for its dome.

"That is God's abode, my child," said he, "the edifice of expiation and
triumph, of penitence and forgiveness. Yo