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Updated: June 1, 2025
The Abbe Cornille was not at the Sacristy, and he rushed about the town to find him, still having a last hope that through the intervention of the good man some Divine aid might come. Then, as he brought back with him the sought-for clergyman, his hope left him, and he had a frightful attack of doubt and anger. What should he do? In what way could he force Heaven to come to his assistance?
The day before, Angelique, realising that she was very ill, had confessed, and partaken of the Communion. Towards three o'clock in the afternoon the good Abbe Cornille had brought to her the sacred Viaticum.
And while the priest, after the final prayers, exhorted them once more, Angelique wore always the sweet expression of renunciation; she, the pure soul, who knew the truth. Then, as the Abbe Cornille withdrew, accompanied by his clerks, the organs again burst forth with peals of joy.
"I do not wish to pain you too deeply at once, yet it is absolutely necessary that you should know the whole truth. Last evening, after you had gone upstairs, I had quite a talk with the Abbe Cornille, and he explained to me why Monseigneur, after great hesitation, had at last decided to call his son to Beaumont.
At this period Master Hierome Cornille, having ascertained that no demon other than that of love was in the girl, made her consent to remain in a convent for the remainder of her days.
Behind them hurried along the Master of the Ceremonies, the good Abbe Cornille, who after having assured himself that everything was in perfect order in the street, stopped under the porch, and assisted a moment at the passing out, in order to be sure that the places assigned to each section had been rightly taken.
HIEROME CORNILLE Grand Penitentiary. Today, the fourteenth day of the month of February, in the presence of me, Hierome Cornille, have appeared the said Masters Jehan Ribou, Antoine Jehan, Martin Beaupertuys, Hierome Maschefer, Jacques de Ville d'Omer, and the Sire d'Idre, in place of the mayor of the city of Tours, for the time absent.
The previous evening, according to a time-honoured custom, the Master of the Ceremonies, the good Abbe Cornille, had gone from door to door to notify the inhabitants of the route which would be taken by the bearers of the statue of Saint Agnes, accompanied by Monseigneur the Bishop, carrying the Holy Sacrament. For more than five centuries this route had been the same.
His walks with his father, who already gave him much attention, brought about useful reactions. Compiègne is rich in the history of the past: kings were crowned there, and kings died there. The Abbey of Saint Cornille sheltered, perhaps, the holy winding-sheet of Christ.
Then, with a full movement of his hands, through the room, above the heads of all present, the Bishop gave the final benediction, while the Huberts and the Abbe Cornille wept. Felicien had taken one of the little hands of Angelique, while in the other little hand the taper of innocence burned bright and clear. The marriage was fixed for the early part of March.
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