He read every thought of theirs in their open
countenances, and he knew that they were in thorough accord with him. But
Paul, as usual, appealed to him most of all--the deeply spiritual quality
in the lad was evident to the priest and reader of men.
Father Montigny took a little leather-bound book from under his black robe
and stood up. The others stood up also. Then the priest read a prayer. It
was in Latin and the five--Paul included--did not understand a word of it,
but not a particle of its solemnity and effect was lost on that account.
It was to Paul, in many ways, the most impressive scene in which he had
ever taken part, the noble, inspired face of the priest, the solemn words,
and no other sound except the peaceful murmur made by the flowing of the
great river. They seemed as much alone on their little hill as if they
stood on a coral island in the south seas.
Nature was in unison with the rite. A brilliant sun came out, the dripping
trees dried fast, and, under the blue sky, the yellow of the river took
on a lighter hue.
After the prayer they resumed their seats by the fire, which they left at
intervals only to get something from the boat or to bring the dryest wood
that they could find for the replenishing of the fire.
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