I am all wonder, O my son, my soul
Is stunned within me; powers to speak to him
Or to interrogate him have I none,
Or even to look on him.--Cowper's ODYSSEY
In his waking senses Philip adhered to his story that his little
sister Dolly had stood at the foot of his bed, called him 'le
pauvre' and had afterwards disappeared, led away by the nursing
lady. It seemed to Berenger a mere delusion of feverish weakness;
for Philip had lost a great deal of blood, and the wound, though
not dangerous, permitted no attempt at moving, and gave much pain.
Of the perfections of the lady as nurse and surgeon Philip could
not say enough, and, pale and overwept as he allowed her to be, he
declared that he was sure that her beauty must equal Mme. De
Selinville's. Berenger laughed, and looking round this strange
hospital, now lighted by the full rays of the morning sun, he was
much struck by the scene.
It was the chancel of the old abbey church. The door by which they
had entered was very small, and perhaps had led merely to the
abbot's throne, as an irregularity for his own convenience, and
only made manifest by the rending away of the rich wooden stall
work, some fragments of which still clung to the walls. The east
end, like that of many French churches, formed a semicircle, the
high altar having been in the centre, and five tall deep bays
forming lesser chapels embracing it, their vaults all gathered up
into one lofty crown above, and a slender pillar separating between
each chapel, each of which further contained a tall narrow window.
Of course, all had been utterly desolated, and Philip was actually
lying in one of these chapels, where the sculptured figure of St.
John and his Eagle still remained on the wall; and a sufficient
remnant of his glowing sanguine robe of love was still in the
window to serve as a shield from the bise. The high altar of
rich marbles was a mere heap of shattered rubbish; but what
surprised Berenger more than all the ruined architectural beauty
which his cinque-cento trained taste could not understand, was,
that the tiles of the pavement were perfectly clean, and diligently
swept, the rubbish piled up in corners; and here and there the
relics of a cross or carved figure lay together, as by a tender,
reverential hand.
Even the morsels of painted glass had been
placed side by side on the floor, so as to form a mosaic of dark
red, blue, and green; and a child's toy lay beside this piece of
patchwork. In the midst of his observations, however, Captain
Falconnet's servant came to summon him to breakfast; and the old
woman appearing at the same time, he could not help asking whether
the lady were coming.