"A honey-bee got into a nest of wasps—and died."
I thought of the Scarlet Woman on the hill.
Voban looked for a moment as if he might do some wild thing. His spirit, his devilry, pleased Doltaire, and he laughed. "Who would have thought our Voban had such wit? The trade of barber is double-edged. Razors should be in fashion at Versailles."
Then he sat down, while Voban made a pretty show of touching off my person. A few minutes passed so, in which the pealing of bells, the shouting of the people, the beating of drums, and the calling of bugles came to us clearly.
A half hour afterwards, on our way to the Intendant's palace, we heard the Benedictus chanted in the Church of the Recollets as we passed—hundreds kneeling outside, and responding to the chant sung within:
"That we should be saved from our enemies, and from the hands of all that hate us."
At the corner of a building which we passed, a little away from the crowd, I saw a solitary cloaked figure. The words of the chant, following us, I could hear distinctly:
"That we, being delivered out of the hands of our enemies, might serve Him without fear."
And then, from the shadowed corner came in a high, melancholy voice the words:
"To give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, and to guide our feet into the way of peace."