From that moment I felt as if we were
almost friends. Never before had I experienced such a feeling for
anyone who had come to the monastery, or for any monk or novice in the
monastery. Although I had been vexed, irritated, at the approach of a
stranger I now felt regret at the idea of his going away. Presently
the time came to show him round the garden. We went out of the shadowy
parlour into the sunshine. No one was in the garden. Only the bees were
humming, the birds were passing, the cats were basking on the broad path
that stretched from the arcade along the front of the _hotellerie_.
As we came out a bell chimed, breaking for an instant the silence, and
making it seem the sweeter when it returned. We strolled for a little
while. We did not talk much. The stranger's eyes, I noticed, were
everywhere, taking in every detail of the scene around us. Presently we
came to the vineyard, to the left of which was the road that led to the
cemetery, passed up the road and arrived at the cemetery gate.
"'Here I must leave you,' I said.
"'Why?' he asked quickly.
"'There is another Father who will show you the chapel.
Pages:
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803