United States or Bouvet Island ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Give me your orders, very reverend Mother." "Fauvent, we have confidence in you." "I am here to do anything you wish." "And to hold your peace about everything!" "Yes, reverend Mother." "When the vault is open " "I will close it again." "But before that " "What, reverend Mother?" "Something must be lowered into it." A silence ensued.
The prioress, after a pout of the under lip which resembled hesitation, broke it. "Father Fauvent!" "Reverend Mother!" "You know that a mother died this morning?" "No." "Did you not hear the bell?" "Nothing can be heard at the bottom of the garden." "Really?" "I can hardly distinguish my own signal." "She died at daybreak." "And then, the wind is not blowing in my direction this morning."
Fauchelevent meditated. The prioress meditated. "What is to be done with that coffin, Father Fauvent?" "It will be given to the earth." "Empty?" Another silence. Fauchelevent made, with his left hand, that sort of a gesture which dismisses a troublesome subject.
One has only to read Arnoul Wion, Gabriel Bucelin, Trithemus, Maurolics, and Dom Luc d'Achery." The prioress took breath, then turned to Fauchelevent. "Is it settled, Father Fauvent?" "It is settled, reverend Mother." "We may depend on you?" "I will obey." "That is well." "I am entirely devoted to the convent." "That is understood. You will close the coffin.
"She slept in her coffin for twenty years, by express permission of our Holy Father, Pius VII. " "The one who crowned the Emp Buonaparte." For a clever man like Fauchelevent, this allusion was an awkward one. Fortunately, the prioress, completely absorbed in her own thoughts, did not hear it. She continued: "Father Fauvent?" "Reverend Mother?"
At the moment when Fauchelevent entered, this double form of preoccupation was imprinted on the countenance of the prioress, who was that wise and charming Mademoiselle de Blemeur, Mother Innocente, who was ordinarily cheerful. The gardener made a timid bow, and remained at the door of the cell. The prioress, who was telling her beads, raised her eyes and said: "Ah! it is you, Father Fauvent."
"She will!" replied Father Fauchelevent, falling into step, and striving not to flinch again. "Father Fauvent, the community has been blessed in Mother Crucifixion. No doubt, it is not granted to every one to die, like Cardinal de Berulle, while saying the holy mass, and to breathe forth their souls to God, while pronouncing these words: Hanc igitur oblationem.
"To limp is no sin, and perhaps it is a blessing. The Emperor Henry II., who combated Antipope Gregory and re-established Benoit VIII., has two surnames, the Saint and the Lame." "Two surtouts are a good thing," murmured Fauchelevent, who really was a little hard of hearing. "Now that I think of it, Father Fauvent, let us give a whole hour to it. That is not too much.
"I am pleased with you, Father Fauvent; bring your brother to me to-morrow, after the burial, and tell him to fetch his daughter." The strides of a lame man are like the ogling glances of a one-eyed man; they do not reach their goal very promptly. Moreover, Fauchelevent was in a dilemma. He took nearly a quarter of an hour to return to his cottage in the garden. Cosette had waked up.
"But she will hear." "She will not listen. Besides, what the cloister knows the world learns not." A pause ensued. The prioress went on: "You will remove your bell. It is not necessary that the sister at the post should perceive your presence." "Reverend Mother?" "What, Father Fauvent?" "Has the doctor for the dead paid his visit?" "He will pay it at four o'clock to-day.
Word Of The Day