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Through his open, swollen lips meaningless words came in a hoarse whisper. Presently the door opened with a creaking sound, but the sleeper moved no limb or feature. Rene Drucquer entered the cell and ran quickly to the bedside. Behind, with more dignity and deliberation, followed the sub-prior of the monastery.
"Good evening," replied Rene Drucquer, meeting with some hesitation the slow, kindly glance. The Provincial leant forward and took from the tray of the inkstand a quill pen. With the point of it he followed the lines written in the book before him. "I understand," he said, in a modulated and business-like tone, "that you have been entirely successful?" "I believe so."
He did not know that its power had affected Rene Drucquer, and that some reflection of it had even touched the self-contained Provincial that it was even now making this old sub-prior talk more openly than was prudent or wise. He happened to be taking the question from a very different point of view. Day by day Christian Vellacott recovered strength.
He had reached that stage of convalescence where a position becomes irksome after a short time. It was merely a sign of returning strength. "Where is the Abbe Drucquer," he asked abruptly. "He left us some time ago," was the guarded reply. "He spoke of going abroad," said Christian, deliberately ignoring the sub-prior's tone.
The young priest had obtained permission from his Provincial to see Christian Vellacott for a few moments before his hurried departure for India. Thus Rene had received his mission sooner than he had hoped for. The astute and far-seeing Provincial had from the beginning intended that Rene Drucquer should be removed from harm's way without delay once his disagreeable mission to St.
He knelt upon the cold floor with one bare and bony arm beneath the sick man's head, while the other lay across his breast. He was looking intently into the veiled eyes, inhaling the very breath of the swollen lips. "Will he die, my father?" asked Rene Drucquer in a whisper; his face was as pale as Vellacott's. "He is in the hands of the good God," was the pious answer.
In this, Rene Drucquer was right. The Provincial was fully aware of the presence of this spirit of antagonism, and, moreover, he knew that it extended to the taciturn sub-prior who accompanied him. But this knowledge in no way disturbed him. The spirit of antagonism had met him in every turn of life. It was so familiar that he had learned to despise it.
A month earlier he would have despised Rene Drucquer as a weak and incapable man; now there was in his heart only pity for the young priest. Soon after darkness had settled over the country the carriage descended into a deep and narrow valley through which ran a rapid river of no great breadth. Here the driver stopped, and the two travellers descended from the vehicle.
Fortunately the friend was a man, otherwise Rene Drucquer were lost indeed. "I should think," he said musingly, "that no two lives have ever been so widely separated as yours and mine, and yet our paths have met!" Vellacott took the cigarette from his lips.
He divined that Rene Drucquer had been led to expect a violent, head strong man, and he could not restrain a smile as he turned away. Before going, however, he said: "At present it is a matter of saving the ship, and our lives. My own affairs can wait, but when this gale is over you may rest assured they shall have my attention."
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