"Ah, well," said he, "then you are going to plunge again into the hurly-burly?"
"Oh! without any pleasure, Father."
"I understand that. It is so good, is it not, no longer to hear anything and to be silent. However, take courage; we will pray for you."
And as Durtal thanked both of them for their kind attentions,
"It is a pleasure to receive a retreatant such as you," cried Father Etienne, "nothing repulses you, and you are so exact that you are about before the hour: you rendered my task of overseer easy. If all were as little exacting and as pliable."
And he admitted that he had given lodging to priests sent by their bishops as a penance, ecclesiastics of ill-repute whose complaints about food, lodging, the need of rising early in the morning, never ceased.
"If, again," said the prior, "one could hope to recall them to good, to send them back healed to their parishes; but no, they go away still more rebellious than before, the Devil does not let them alone."
During this conversation a lay brother brought in some dishes covered with plates and placed them on the table.
"We have changed the hour of your dinner, because of the train," said Father Etienne.
"Good appetite, adieu, and may the Lord bless you," said the prior.