all day long antiochus's mother had been speculating as to what could be the object of the priest's visit, for which her boy had prepared her, but she took good care not to betray by her manner that she was expecting him. perhaps he intended making a few remarks on the subject of usury, and certain other trades which she practised; or because she was in the habit of lending out—for purely medical purposes, but always for a small fee—certain very ancient relics which she had inherited from her husband's family. or perhaps he wanted to borrow money, either for himself or some one else. whatever it might prove to be, as soon as the last customer had departed she went to the door and stood there with her hands in her pockets, heavy with copper coins, looking out to see whether antiochus at least were not in sight.
then immediately she pretended to be busied with shutting the door, and in fact she did shut the lower half, bending down to fasten the bolt. she was active in her movements, although tall and stout; but, contrary to the other women of the place, she had a small head, which only looked large because of the great mass of black plaits that encircled it.
as the priest approached she drew herself up and bade him good evening with much dignity, though her black eyes looked straight into his with an ardent, languorous gaze. then she invited him to take a seat in the room behind the wine-shop, and antiochus's wistful eyes begged her to press the invitation. but the priest said good-humouredly:
"no, let us stay here," and he sat down at one of the long, wine-stained tables that furnished the little tavern, whilst antiochus, resigned to the inevitable, stood beside him, casting anxious glances round, however, to see if everything was in order and fearful lest any belated customer should come in to disturb the conference.
nobody came and everything was in order. the big petroleum lamp threw an immense shadow of his mother on the wall behind the little bar, covered with shelves filled with bottles of red, yellow and green liqueurs, the light falling crudely on the small black casks ranged along the opposite side of the shop. there was no other furniture except the long table at which sat the priest, and another smaller one, and over the door hung a bunch of broom which served the double purpose of informing passers-by that this was the door of a wine-shop and of attracting flies away from the glasses.
antiochus had been waiting for this moment during the whole of the day, with the feeling that some mystery would then be revealed. he was afraid of some intruder coming in, or that his mother would not behave as she should. he would have liked her to be more humble, more docile in the presence of the priest; but instead of that she had taken her seat again behind the bar, and sat there as composedly as a queen on her throne. she did not even appear to realize that the man seated at the tavern table like an ordinary customer was a saint who worked miracles, and she was not even grateful for the large quantity of wine which he had been the indirect means of her selling that day!
at last, however, paul opened the conversation.
"i should have liked to see your husband as well," he began, resting his elbows on the table and placing his finger-tips together, "but antiochus tells me that he will not be back until sunday week."
the woman merely nodded in assent.
"yes, on sunday week, but i can go and fetch him, if you like," broke in antiochus, with an eagerness of which neither of the others took the least notice.
"it is about the boy," continued paul. "the time has come when you must really consider in earnest what you are going to do with him. he is growing big now and you must either teach him a trade or, if you want to make a priest of him, you must think very seriously of the responsibility you are undertaking."
antiochus opened his lips, but as his mother began to speak he listened to her silently, though with a shade of disapproval on his anxious young face.
the woman seized the occasion, as she always did, to sound the praises of her husband, also to excuse herself for having married a man much older than herself:
"my martin, as your reverence knows, is the most conscientious man in the world; he is a good husband and a good father and a better workman than anyone else. who is there in the whole village who works as hard as he does? tell me that, your reverence, you who know what sort of a character the village has got through the idleness of its inhabitants! i say, then, that if antiochus wants to choose a trade, he has only to follow his father's; that is the best trade for him. the boy is free to do as he likes, and even if he wants to do nothing (i don't say it for vanity), he will be able to live without turning thief, thank god! but if he wants a trade different from his father's, then he must choose for himself. if he wants to be a charcoal-burner, let him be a charcoal-burner; if he wants to be a carpenter, let him be a carpenter; if he wants to be a labourer, let him be a labourer."
"i want to be a priest!" said the boy with quivering lips and eager eyes.
"very well then, be a priest," replied his mother.
and thus his fate was decided.
paul let his hands fall upon the table and gazed slowly round him. quite suddenly he felt it was ridiculous that he should thus interest himself in other people's business. how could he possibly solve the problem of the future for antiochus when he could not succeed in solving it for himself? the boy stood before him in ardent expectation, like a piece of red-hot iron awaiting the stroke of the hammer to mould it into shape, and every word had the power to either make or mar him. paul's gaze rested on him with something akin to envy, and in the depths of his conscience he applauded the mother's action in leaving her son free to follow his own instincts.
"instinct never leads us wrong," he said aloud, following his own train of thought. "but now, antiochus, tell me in your mother's presence the reason why you wish to be a priest. being a priest is not a trade, you know; it is not like being a charcoal-burner or a carpenter. you think now that it is a very easy, comfortable kind of life, but later on you will find that it is very difficult. the joys and pleasures allowed to all other men are forbidden to us, and if we truly desire to serve the lord our life is one continuous sacrifice."
"i know that," replied the boy very simply. "i desire to serve the lord."
he looked at his mother then, because he was a little ashamed of betraying all his enthusiasm before her, but she sat behind the bar as calmly and coldly as when she was merely serving customers. so antiochus went on:
"both my father and mother are willing for me to become a priest; why should they object? i am very careless sometimes, but that is because i am still only a boy, and in future i mean to be much more serious and attentive."
"that is not the question, antiochus; you are too serious and attentive already!" said paul. "at your age you should be heedless and merry. learn and prepare yourself for life, certainly, but be a boy too."
"and am i not a boy?" protested antiochus; "i do play, only you don't happen to see me just when i am playing! besides, why should i play if i don't feel inclined? i have lots of amusements: i enjoy ringing the church bells and i feel as if i was a bird up in the tower. and haven't i had an amusing time to-day? i enjoyed carrying the box and climbing up ever so high amongst the rocks, and i got there before you, although you were riding! i enjoyed coming home again ... and to-day i enjoyed ... i was happy," and the boy's eyes sought the ground as he added, "when you drove the devils out of the body of nina masia."
"you believed in that?" asked the priest in a low voice, and immediately he saw the boy's eyes look upward, so glorious with the light of faith and wonder that instinctively he lowered his own to hide the dark shadow that rested on his soul.
"only, when we are children we think in one way and everything looks great and beautiful to us," continued paul, much disturbed, "but when we are grown up things look different. one must reflect very carefully before undertaking anything important so that one may not come to repent afterwards."
"i shall not repent, i'm sure," said the boy with decision. "have you repented? no, and neither shall i repent."
paul lifted up his eyes: again he felt that he held in his hands the soul of this child, to mould it like wax, and that a few careless touches might deform it for ever. and again he feared and was silent.
all this time the woman behind the bar had listened quietly, but now the priest's words began to cause her a certain uneasiness. she opened a drawer in front of her, wherein she kept her money, and the cornelian rings and the brooches and mother-of-pearl ornaments pledged by the village women in return for small loans; and evil thoughts flashed through the darkest recesses of her mind, like those forlorn trinkets at the bottom of her drawer.
"the priest is afraid that antiochus will turn him out of his parish some time or other," she was thinking, "or else he is in need of money and is working off his bad temper first. now he'll be asking for a loan."
she closed the drawer softly and resumed her tranquil demeanour. she always sat there in silence and never took part in the discussions between her customers, even though invited to give her opinion, especially if they were playing cards. thus she left her little antiochus to face his adversary by himself.
"how is it possible not to believe?" said the boy, between awe and excitement. "nina masia was possessed, wasn't she? why, i myself felt the devil inside her shaking her like a wolf in a cage. and it was nothing but the words of the gospel spoken by you that set her free!"
"that is true, the word of god can achieve all things," admitted the priest. then suddenly he rose from his seat.
was he going? antiochus gazed at him in consternation.
"are you going?" he murmured.
was this the famous visit? he ran to the bar and made a desperate sign to his mother, who turned round and took down a bottle from the shelves. she was disappointed too, for she had hoped for a chance of lending money to the parish priest, even at a very low interest, thereby in some way legitimizing her usury in the sight of god. but instead of that, he had simply come to inform antiochus that being a priest was not the same thing as being a carpenter! however, she must do him honour, in any case.
"but your reverence is not going away like that! accept something to drink, at least; this wine is very old."
antiochus was already holding the tray with a glass goblet upon it.
"then only a little," said paul.
leaning across the bar, the woman poured out the wine, careful not to spill a drop. paul raised his glass, within which the ruby liquid exhaled a perfume like a dusky rose, and after first making antiochus taste it, he put it to his own lips:
"then let us drink to the future parish priest of aar!" he said.
antiochus was obliged to lean against the bar, for his knees gave way under him; that was the happiest moment of his life. the woman had turned round to replace the precious bottle on the shelf, and, absorbed in his joy, the lad did not notice that the priest had gone deathly pale and was staring out of the doorway as though he beheld a ghost.
a dark figure was running silently across the square, came to the wine-shop door, looked round the interior with wide-open black eyes, and then entered, panting.
it was one of agnes's servants.
the priest instinctively withdrew to the far end of the tavern, trying to hide himself, then came forward again on a sudden impulse. he felt as if he were revolving round and round like a top, then pulled himself together and remembered that he was not alone and must be careful not to excite remark. so he stood still. but he had no desire to hear what the servant was telling the woman, listening eagerly behind the bar, his only desire was flight and safety; his heart had stopped beating, and all the blood in his body had rushed to his head and was roaring in his ears. nevertheless the servant's words penetrated to the utmost depths of his soul.
"she fell down," said the girl breathlessly, "and the blood poured from her nose in a stream, such a stream that we thought she had broken something inside her head! and she's bleeding still! give me the keys of st. mary of egypt, for that is the only thing that can stop it."
antiochus, who stood listening with the tray and glass still in his hands, ran to fetch the keys of an old church, now demolished, which keys when actually laid on the shoulders of anyone suffering from h?morrhage of the nose did to some extent arrest the flow of blood.
"all this is just pretence," thought paul, "there is no truth whatever in the tale. she sent her servant to spy on me and endeavour to lure me to her house, and they are probably in league with this worthless woman here."
and yet deep, deep within him the agitation grew till all his being was in a tumult. ah no, the servant was not lying; agnes was too proud to confide in anyone, and least of all in her servants. agnes was really ill, and with his inward eye he saw her sweet face all stained with blood. and it was he himself who had struck her the blow. "we thought she had broken something inside her head."
he saw the shifty eyes of the woman behind the bar glance swiftly in his direction, with obvious surprise at his apparent indifference.
"but how did it happen?" he then asked the servant, but coolly and calmly, as though seeking to conceal his anxiety even from himself.
the girl turned and confronted him, her dark, hard, pointed face thrust out towards him like a rock against which he feared to strike.
"i was not at home when she fell. it happened this morning whilst i was at the fountain, and when i got back i found her very ill. she had fallen over the doorstep and blood was flowing from her nose, but i think she was more frightened than hurt. then the blood stopped, but she was very pale all day and refused to eat. then this evening her nose began to bleed again, and not only that, but she had a sort of convulsions, and when i left her just now she was lying cold and stiff, with blood still flowing. i am very nervous," added the girl, taking the keys which antiochus handed to her and wrapping them in her apron, "and we are only women in the house."
she moved towards the door, but kept her black eyes on paul as though seeking to draw him after her by the sheer power of her gaze, and the woman seated behind the bar said in her cold voice:
"why does not your reverence go and see her?"
he wrung his hands unconsciously and stammered: "i hardly know ... it is too late...."
"yes, come, come!" urged the servant. "my little mistress will be very glad, and it will give her courage to see you."
"it is the devil speaking by your mouth," thought paul, but unconsciously he followed the girl. he had gripped antiochus by the shoulder and was drawing him along as a support, and the boy went with him like a plank of safety upon the waves. so they crossed the square and went as far as the presbytery, the servant running on ahead, but turning every few steps to look back at them, the whites of her eyes gleaming in the moonlight. seen thus at night, the black figure with the dark and mask-like face had truly something diabolical about it, and paul followed it with a vague sense of fear, leaning on antiochus's shoulder as he walked and feeling like tobit in his blindness.
on passing the presbytery door the boy tried to open it, and then paul perceived that his mother had locked it. he stopped short and disengaged himself from his companion.
"my mother has locked up because she knew in advance that i should not keep my word," he thought to himself; then said to the boy: "antiochus, you must go home at once."
the servant had stopped also, then went on a few steps, then stopped again and saw the boy returning towards his own home and the priest inserting his key in his door; then she went back to him:
"i am not coming," he said, turning almost threateningly to confront her, and looking her straight in the face as though trying to recognize her true nature through her outward mask; "if you should absolutely need me, you understand—only if you do absolutely need me—you can come back and fetch me."
she went away without another word, and he stood there before his own door, with his hand on the key as though it had refused to turn in the lock. he could not bring himself to enter, it was beyond his power; neither could he go forward in that other path he had begun to tread. he felt as if he were doomed to stand there for all eternity, before a closed door of which he held the key.
meanwhile antiochus had reached home. his mother locked the door and he went to wash up the glasses and put them away; and the first glass he washed in the clean water was the one from which he had drunk. the boy dried it very carefully with a white cloth, which he passed round and round inside with his thumb; then he held it up to the flame of the lamp and examined it with one eye, keeping the other screwed up, which had the effect of making the glass shine like a big diamond. then he hid it away in a secret cupboard of his own with as much reverence as if it had been the chalice of the mass.
