Jacques did not forget his mother's instruction. He laid down his
fagot, took off his cap, and there, on his knees, began a prayer,
to which the wind moaned a dreary accompaniment. He repeated some
prayers which he had learned at the Catechism class; he said others
too,--fervent words that rose of themselves from his heart. And
as he prayed, he looked up at the Christ, lashed by the storm. Its
parted lips and upturned eyes gave it an expression of infinite pain.
Two little icicles, like congealed tears, hung on its eyelids, and
the emaciated body stretched itself upon the cross in a last spasm of
agony. Jacques began to suffer with the suffering embodied there, and
he was moved to console the One whom he had come to invoke.
When his prayers were said, he took up his fagot and started on his
way; but before he had left the cross-road behind him, he turned and
looked back. The Christ's eyes seemed to follow him. The face was
less sombre; the features seemed to have relaxed into an expression
of infinite gentleness. A gust of wind shook the snow that had
accumulated on its outstretched arms. One might have believed that
the statue had shivered. Jacques stopped. "Oh, my poor God," said he,
"how cold you are!" and he went back and stood before the crucifix.
Then with a sudden impulse he took off his cloak. He climbed upon
the pedestal, then putting his foot upon the projection of the
loin-cloth, and reaching about the shoulders, he threw the cloak
around the statue.
When he had reached the ground again, "Now, at least, you will not be
so cold!" said he; and the two little icicles that had hung on the
eyelids of the divine image melted and ran slowly down the granite
cheeks like tears of gratitude.
Jacques started off at a rapid pace. The cruel north wind blew
through his cotton blouse. He began to run, and the fagot beat
against his shoulders and bruised them. At last he reached the foot
of a declivity and stopped panting by a ravine sheltered from the
snow and the wind by a wall of pines. How tired he was! He descended
into the ravine and sat down to rest, only for a minute, thought
he,--just a minute more, and he would be up again and on his way to
his mother. How tired he was! His head, too, was very hot, and felt
heavy. He lay down and leaned his head against the fagot. "I must not
go to sleep," he said. "Oh, no, I will not go to sleep;" and as he
said this, his eyelids drooped, and he became suddenly engulfed in a
great flood of unconsciousness.