"What dost thou think of that?" said Ronan to the bishop. "Dost thou fancy the views of these poor people?"
"Brothers, in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, the friend of the sorrowful, pardon this guilty man if you find his repentance sincere."
Who was it that spoke thus? The hermit-laborer, who had until then kept himself concealed in the shadow under one of the vaults of the chapel. As he spoke he stepped into the light and stood before the Vagres and the slaves who were venting their rage.
"The hermit-laborer!" cried the slaves with touching respect. "The friend of the poor, of the meek and the oppressed!"
"The consoler of those who weep!"
"How often has he not taken in the field the hoe of one of our exhausted companions, and himself finished the task of the slave in order to save him from the keeper's whip!"
"One day, as I was pasturing the sheep that I had in charge, two lambs went astray. The hermit-laborer looked for them until he found them and was able to bring them back to me. Blessed be he for his charity."
"Our little children always have a smile for the hermit-laborer."
"Oh! From the moment they see him they run to him and take hold of his robe."
"As poor as any of ourselves, he loves to make little presents to the children. He always has some fruit for them that he gathered in the woods, a piece of wild honey-comb, or some little bird that has fallen out of its nest."