Fabiola : or, The church of the catacombs - Digital Repository Services

ing a second shake of the hand he conducted him to tho chamber
prepared for his friend Simon.
IV.
On the morrow, the storm had completely censed ; the nKy
was magnificent ; not a cloud was to 1>o ween ; the Countenance
of the stranger, reflecting the happiness which illumined that
of his new friends, was also serence. All was joy in the littie
village of ; the church had. the appearance of a fete ; and
the bell sent forth its joyous notes. Tho baptism took place
at ten, and was immediately followed by a repast, which, to
the friends of thefamily, is always indispensable. M. In Cu'C-,
seated in the place of honor, presided on the occasion with
much gaiety ; the scene was an animated one ; the well storked
cellar was not spared ; happiness in a village is never miserly ;
the heart, they say, is always in tho hand. Franrjois, whoso
fke voice every Sunday at the chorister's desk made the schoolmaster,
who was director in chief of the music, envious, was
asked for a song.
At first he begged to be excused, at last lie said, "I will give
you a little romance, that a comrade, who was ill from a
"
fall, taught me in the hospital of
and ; in a loud
voice he sang one of those beautiful chansons of M. da
Hegur.
The stranger, being invited in his turn, excused himself,
saying he had no
"
voice. However," added he, "as I ought
to pay my reckoning I will relate, if you like, between the
fruit and the cheese a true history." As so mas the dessert
had been placed on a tablecloth, of snowy whiteness, Simon' ;
as follows :
representative spoke
"
My story commences nearly two years and a half ago. A
poor traveler coming from a distance, exhausted by fatigue,
and emaciated by hunger, not having a sou in his pocket or a
sole to his foot, was obliged to stop at the hospital of the town
o - . As he was young and healthy, some days rest soon
set him up again. He wished to continue his journey ; but
during his illness his purse had not re-filled, nor his shoes
been re-soled; the road that he had to travel was long. What
should he do? Should he leave it all to God? Yi s, that's
what the poor traveler did, and the blessiog of God came to
hi's aid and sent him one fine morning a pair of new boots. A
brave soldier who was about to quit the hosp.tal at the same
time, to return home, was on this occasion the instrument of
God's mercy. This man, named Frangois, is to-day the father
of my god-daughter."
" But how did you learn this story?" said Francois, his face
as red as a Mon I
morency_ cherry; " the poor traveler is dead,
no doubt from want in California, where he went to seek his
fortune."
" I learnt it from himself, for he has not forgotten it," said
the stranger.
" Is he still alive?"
" He is, and what is more is rich, for he found the fortune
he went to seek."
" "
Where is he at this moment ?
" "
In your arms ! cried the stranger, pressing to his bosom
him, whom he called his first benefactor.
Till'; A7V/.T A \V.\Tl 'II.
il.iori pn>dn