His face was pale and drawn, like that of a man who had just undergone some inward struggle.
“Singular man!” muttered Gondy, taking his hat to go away; but on turning around he saw the beggar between him and the door. His first idea was that this man intended to do him some harm, but on the contrary he saw him fall on his knees before him with his hands clasped.
“Your blessing, your holiness, before you go, I beseech you!” he cried.
“Your holiness!” said Gondy; “my friend, you take me for some one else.”
“No, your holiness, I take you for what you are, that is to say, the coadjutor; I recognized you at the first glance.”
Gondy smiled. “And you want my blessing?” he said.
“Yes, I have need of it.”
The mendicant uttered these words in a tone of such humility, such earnest repentance, that Gondy placed his hand upon him and gave him his benediction with all the unction of which he was capable.
“Now,” said Gondy, “there is a communion between us. I have blessed you and you are sacred to me. Come, have you committed some crime, pursued by human justice, from which I can protect you?”
The beggar shook his head. “The crime which I have committed, my lord, has no call upon human justice, and you can only deliver me from it by blessing me frequently, as you have just done.”