nful dejection, cold as the grave itself. But, suddenly, the Abbe
Gabriel appeared--and the darkness fled before the dawning of a new day."

"You were right, sir; there are strange coincidences," said Hardy,
yielding more and more to the feeling of confidence and sympathy,
produced by the resemblance of his real position to Rodin's pretended
one. "And to speak frankly," he added, "I am very glad I have seen you
before quitting this house. Were I capable of falling back into fits of
cowardly weakness, your example alone would prevent me. Since I listen to
you, I feel myself stronger in the noble path which the angelic Abbe
Gabriel has opened before me, as you so well express it."

"The poor old man will not then regret having listened to the first
impulse of his heart, which urged him to come to you," said Robin, with a
touching expression. "You will sometimes remember me in that world to
which you are returning?"

"Be sure of it, sir; but allow me to ask one question: You remain, you
say, in this house?"

"What would you have me do? There reigns here a calm repose, and one is
not disturbed in one's prayers," said Rodin, in a very gentle tone. "You
see, I have suffered so much--the conduct of that unhappy youth was so
horrible--he plunged into such shocking excesses--that the wrath of
heaven must be kindled against him. Now I am very old, and it is only by
passing the few days that are left me in fervent prayer that I can hope
to disarm the just anger of the Lord. Oh! prayer--prayer! It was the Abbe
Gabriel who revealed to me all its power and sweetness--and therewith the
formidable duties it imposes."

"Its duties are indeed great and sacred," answered Hardy, with a pensive
air.

"Do you remember the life of Rancey?" said Rodin, abruptly, as he darted
a peculiar glance at Hardy.

"The founder of La Trappe?" said Hardy, surprised at Rodin's question. "I
remember hearing a very vague account, some time ago, of the motives of
his conversion."

"There is, mark you, no more striking an example of the power of prayer,
and of the state of almost divine ecstasy, to which it may lead a
religious soul. In a few words, I will relate to you this instructive and
tragic history. Rancey--but I beg your pardon; I fear I am trespassing on
your time."

"No, no," answered Hardy, hastily; "You cannot think how interested I am
in what you tell me. My interview with the Abbe Gabriel was abruptly
broken off, and in listening to you