“No, sir,” Kit replied; “I never saw one before. There are a great many things in Europe that we do not have in America.”
“Ah, but you are modest about it!” the priest laughed. “You have also a great many things there that we do not have here.”
As they ascended the inner steps they found a little shop on each side of the entrance, kept by elderly women who were evidently sisters of some order, as they were clad from head to foot in white nuns’-cloth. The goods they sold were crosses, medallions, strings of beads, pictures of the church, and other sacred emblems. And just outside, in full view, was the office where masses for the repose of the souls of the dead could be arranged for and the bills paid, and where large and small candles for church use were also sold.
A big doorway on the first landing opened into a crypt or lower chapel; but the iron gate across was locked, and they went up another flight of steps to the church proper—a church of no unusual size, but one of the handsomest and most artistic in France, with walls and pillars of marble, red jasper, and other costly materials. Near the doors were two large stands with innumerable holders for candles, in which many were burning, some as tall as a man, others not much larger than the ordinary household candles.
The priest had pointed out the curious toy ships hanging from the ceiling, all offerings from mariners who had been delivered from peril; the hundreds of tablets on the walls, “like peppermint lozenges with blue borders,” as Harry whispered to Kit; and the costly altar decorations, when he suddenly stopped and looked at his watch.
“I think we had better go out a moment,” he said, “and learn how late the ascenseurs run. It would be awkward to be left up here after they had made their last trip for the night.”
When they reached the stone promenade they saw several men running at great speed toward the ascenseurs; but whether something had happened or whether the men were trying to catch the car, was more than they could tell. The priest, however, asked the attendant who sat near the church door, and so learned the truth.
“There is some trouble with the ascenseurs,” he explained, after a short conversation in French with the attendant. “Not exactly an accident, but some part of the engine was broken down, and they cannot run till it is repaired. They think all will be in order again in half an hour, so we need give ourselves no uneasiness about it.”
“That is a capital illustration of the fallibility of all things human,” he continued, as they stepped back out of the wind. “Those ascenseurs are supposed to be as nearly perfect as such mechanism can be made. It was thought that nothing could possibly happen to them. They operate on what is known as the ‘water balance’ system. As one car goes down the other goes up; and there is a water tank under each car. Before a car starts from the top, its tank is filled with water by an engine that forces the water up through a pipe, and the added weight of the water makes it so much heavier that it easily draws the other car up. Then there are four large wire cables attached to each car, besides the usual devices for bringing the cars to a stop in case the cables should break. That looks as if every possible danger had been guarded against, doesn’t it? Yet some trifling thing about the engine gives way, and the whole beautiful mechanism is for the time made useless. You will find all through life, my boys, that no matter how carefully you lay your plans, they will sometimes miscarry. It is only those things that the great Creator arranges for us that always go right. This solid church may crumble, but the skies above it will still be as blue, the wind still sweep as furiously across the summit of this hill. Remember that, my children. Whether you follow the faith that I love, or the newer forms that I hope you love equally well, you must find in the end that all rests upon the one foundation, the great Creator who makes no mistakes, whose love is eternal, who doeth all things well.”
Kit looked up in surprise to hear a priest speak in this way. There were few Catholics in his part of Fairfield County, and he had never given the subject much attention; but from what he had heard of them he rather imagined that they—well, not that they would eat him exactly, or insist upon burning candles in front of his face, but that at any rate they would not be likely to see good in any religion except their own. But this man was very different from the hazy ideas he had had of Catholic priests. He did not look or speak like a bigot. As Kit examined his face more closely he thought it one of the most kindly and most intellectual faces he had ever seen. And certainly he was a man of great knowledge. Whatever subject came up in the conversation, he was familiar with. He had even talked about the management of a steamship as knowingly as if he had been a sailor. He spoke English and French with equal ease; as a priest he must also speak Latin; and as a resident of Rome he must speak Italian. Kit noticed, too, that although his outer clothing was shaped in the usual priestly fashion, it was made of very fine materials. His boots were delicate and highly polished.