"Are you going?" he murmured.
Was this the famous visit? He ran to the bar and made a desperate sign to his mother, who turned round and took down a bottle from the shelves. She was disappointed too, for she had hoped for a chance of lending money to the parish priest, even at a very low interest, thereby in some way legitimizing her usury in the sight of God. But instead of that, he had simply come to inform Antiochus that being a priest was not the same thing as being a carpenter! However, she must do him honour, in any case.
"But your Reverence is not going away like that! Accept something to drink, at least; this wine is very old."
Antiochus was already holding the tray with a glass goblet upon it.
"Then only a little," said Paul.
Leaning across the bar, the woman poured out the wine, careful not to spill a drop. Paul raised his glass, within which the ruby liquid exhaled a perfume like a dusky rose, and after first making Antiochus taste it, he put it to his own lips:
"Then let us drink to the future parish priest of Aar!" he said.
Antiochus was obliged to lean against the bar, for his knees gave way under him; that was the happiest moment of his life. The woman had turned round to replace the precious bottle on the shelf, and, absorbed in his joy, the lad did not notice that the priest had gone deathly pale and was staring out of the doorway as though he beheld a ghost.
A dark figure was running silently across the square, came to the wine-shop door, looked round the interior with wide-open black eyes, and then entered, panting.