San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1889-01-17
honored: She seemed greatly astolisGSd by

prised by the storm as we were returning
from the midnight mass, and we have come
to your house for shelter"
The poor woman had only the strength to
make sign with her head, proud OF the
chance which, happily for her, brought her
noble master into her lowly dwelling. The
young girl continued warming herself be-
fore the fire on the hearth.
"What do you call yourselfr asked the
nobleman Of the young man.
FRANCOIS" replied the other.
"And you are shepherdp
"Yes, monseigneur; in your sheepfolds" q
"How much do you earnT'
THAT varies. Three sous a day in good
weather; sometimes less in bad"
"Is that allf'
"We live on that, my mother and I, or,
rather, we do not entirely pine away"
Poor thing" said the young girl, involun-
tarily.
There was so much kindness in this voice
that the young Francois was deeply moved
by it; he fixed his look on the noble young
lady and felt himself seized by those instinc-
tive and involuntary movements of sympa-
thy that one experiences at first sight for
those that should be profoundly loved. The
tempest was Gained, the storm was over; the
gale was Quoted and there was hardly more
than fine and light rain falling. The
marquis called his coachman, who brought
the carriage nearly up to the doorstep; the
lanterns were relighted, and the nobleman
said to his daughter:
"Come, Jeanne, my darling, let us go back
to the CASTLE"
Jeanne wrapped herself up again in her fur
mantle and lace neckerchief, but before leav-
ing the Margaridettos poor dwelling she laid
in Francois hand gold coin, the first that
had ever shone in that miserable house.
IL
On the morrow and several days follow
ing, Jeanne de Sicard, daughter of the Lord
of Palificat, returned to visit the poor sick
woman, and thenceforward looked out to see
that nothing in the way of remedies or care
should be wanting in the house of the poor
widow. But Marguerite, exhausted by i'll
ness, suffering and privations could not live
long, and in q month after she died in the
arms of her son. Francois had vowed to
Jeanne an eternal gratitude Thanks to the
charity of the young girl, his mother, when
she died, was no longer in the gloomy misery
which had killed her, but was surrounded by
all the comforts Of q family in easy circum-
stances. On her side, Jeanne, touched by the
young shepherds gentle and honest manner,
was unwilling to leave him unprovided for.
and she persuaded hei father 10 secure for
him position as lay brother in the convent
of the Jacobins at Toulouse; 1t was the best
opportunity young peasant could then have;
educated and trained in the convent, he
would remain a lay brother or be made q
preacher, according to his disposition and
his intelligence
In the course of the winter of 1859, which
followed the entrance of Francois into the
convent, Jeanne de Sicard came to live at
Toulouse. She attended high mass every
Sunday in the chapel of the Dominican con-
vent, where a throng assembled to hear the
preachers, who were famous through all the
province, and to see the services, which were
celebrated with pomp unknown in any
other of 1.-The numerous converts Of the city.
Francois fulfilled In these ceremonies the
tasks of an acolyte, or censor bearer, carry
ing the great silver candlestick or swinging
The censor, the smoke from which flooded the
chapel with that clinging odor peculiar to
eastern perfumes Often, also, he accompa
MED the monk charged with the duty Of max
ing a collection from among the worshipers
Passing before Jeanne de Sicard, the young
brother could not prevent himself from rails
ing his eyes to his benefactress; she made &
sign to him, unseen by all others, but which
did not escape the young man. Through all
the winter this little maneuver was repeated
every Sunday; but when spring returned,
Jeanne went back to her castle of Palificat,
in Croix-Daurade, and it was useless for the
poor little friar to pass and repass before the
pew that she had custoparily occupied, he
did not see her again; in consequence he ex-
perienced genuine grief, all the more acute
because he could confide in no one.
About this time, the month of February,
1870, came Oh, 21.d with it the decree Of the
constituent assembly, which set aside the &C.
clesiastic VOWS and threw wide open the con-
vent doors. Many monks, held by force in
their monastereS, FASTENED to profit from
the liberty that the revolution offered them;
they shook off their obligations, shaved their
boards and parted with their gowns and
mantles to enter into civil life. Francois,
who was about to be received as a novice,
having reached his 10th year, and not
feeling a strong inclination for the priestly
life, also left the convent, and found himself
free one fine day in March, on the streets OF
Toulouse, and with only the few francs that
they had given as indemnity to each monk
or novice who had thrown to the dogs his
frock and white or brown cassock.
I'LL
But what should he do now, without rela-
tions, acquaintance, friends or any one to
assist or to protect him9 Then the thought
came to him to go and find his benefactress,
Jeanne de Sicard, at the Palifcat castle; but
he did not dare to go. How would she judge
his resolution What greeting would she
offer to one who had shown so little eager
neg q rntnir the nnirnrnnrtnnt SitIIatinn that