Christian fiction; Clergy -- Fiction; Historical fiction; New Mexico -- Fiction
Suddenly young Vaillant broke off, saying that he must write a letter
before the hour was over, and tucking up his gown he ran away at full
speed. Latour stood looking after him, resolved that he would take this
new boy under his protection. There was something about the baker's son
that had given their meeting the colour of an adventure; he meant to
repeat it. In that first encounter, he chose the lively, ugly boy for
his friend. It was instantaneous. Latour himself was much cooler and
more critical in temper; hard to please, and often a little grey in
mood.
During their Seminary years he had easily surpassed his friend in
scholarship, but he always realized that Joseph excelled him in the
fervour of his faith. After they became missionaries, Joseph had learned
to speak English, and later, Spanish, more readily than he. To be sure,
he spoke both languages very incorrectly at first, but he had no vanity
about grammar or refinement of phrase. To communicate with peons, he was
quite willing to speak like a peon.
Though the Bishop had worked with Father Joseph for twenty-five years
now, he could not reconcile the contradictions of his nature. He simply
accepted them, and, when Joseph had been away for a long while, realized
that he loved them all. His Vicar was one of the most truly spiritual
men he had ever known, though he was so passionately attached to many of
the things of this world. Fond as he was of good eating and drinking, he
not only rigidly observed all the fasts of the Church, but he never
complained about the hardness and scantiness of the fare on his long
missionary journeys. Father Joseph's relish for good wine might have
been a fault in another man. But always frail in body, he seemed to need
some quick physical stimulant to support his sudden flights of purpose
and imagination. Time and again the Bishop had seen a good dinner, a
bottle of claret, transformed into spiritual energy under his very eyes.
From a little feast that would make other men heavy and desirous of
repose, Father Vaillant would rise up revived, and work for ten or
twelve hours with that ardour and thoroughness which accomplished such
lasting results.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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