"Yes, father."
And Verheyden went back to the drudgery of his profession, missing its delights, and did his duty faithfully if not cheerfully. There could have been no severer test.
There was no more talk of visions and trances. But every morning a shadow of a man stole into the chapel, knelt near the door, and went out as quietly after the mass was over. Once a fortnight the same shadow came to Father Vinton's side and made a sincere but disheartening confession. The spring of the musician's spirit was broken.
"You are ill," the priest said to him one day.
"No," answered Verheyden dreamily. "My heart troubles me a little. It beats too fast. There's nothing else the matter with me."
He was told that he ought to consult a doctor.
"I thought I would," was the answer; "but I forgot it. What is in the church?"
"Laurie with the choir practising a new mass. To-morrow is the Assumption, you know."
"Oh! yes, I'll go in and listen awhile; shall I?"
"My poor boy!" said the priest. "Will it not give you more pain than pleasure?"