It was a simple and oft-repeated story, but there was something in the voice and manner of Jean that compelled attention. All the children listened; also the teacher; and the visitor, M. Paradis, curé of the parish, was visibly impressed. He brought his horn-rimmed spectacles down from the top of his head, set them firmly on the bridge of his nose, and regarded Jean for some moments without saying a word. Jean returned the gaze with a steady, respectful glance; then let his eyes fall until they were looking at the floor just below the curé’s feet. It was not polite to stare at visitors, but one might look at their boots. The boots of M. Paradis were covered with dust. He had walked all the way from the presbytery, two miles or more--that was evident. "Ah, it is you, Jean," said the curé. "Oui, Monsieur," said Jean, "How old are you, Jean?" "Sixteen years, Monsieur." "Sixteen years! It seems like yesterday since you were baptized. How the time goes! Sixteen years, you say? You are no longer a child, Jean, no indeed. Well, it is high time to decide what we are going to make of you, certainly. Tell me, Jean; you admire the character of your patron saint, do you not?" "Mais oui, Monsieur." "In what respect, my son?" "Oh, Monsieur, he was a hero, without fear and without reproach, like Bayard." "Bayard, Jean, what do you know of him?" "He also was a hero, Monsieur. Mademoiselle Angers has told us about him." "Without doubt. But Jean, Jean Baptiste, would you not like to be a hero like your patron saint?" "Oui, Monsieur." "Forerunner of the true God? Tell me that, Jean." "Ah, Monsieur, as to that I do not know." "You shall be, Jean, you shall be. Come, Jean, come with me this instant. We will go to see your parents, that is to say, your mother. Your father, Jean, was a good man; he rests in God. Pardon us, Mademoiselle. I fear that we have transgressed. But it is a very important matter and I wish to speak to Madame Giroux without delay. Permit us, if you please, to go now. Will you not grant us this favour, Mademoiselle?" "With pleasure, Monsieur le curé," said the teacher. "And I hope that you will find something suitable for Jean. He is a boy of great force of character, one who might be very good or very bad." "True, Mademoiselle; it is always thus. Adieu, Mademoiselle. Adieu, my children." "Jean," said the curé, as they walked along the winding valley road, "I have known you for a long time, since you were a very small child; and I think, yes, I quite think that you have the vocation, the divine call to the service of God and His Church. Yes, it seems to me that you have all the marks. See! _Probitas vitæ_, innocence of life. I have not heard of any real wickedness that you have done. Faults, perhaps, like all boys; transgressions even, but nothing serious; venial sins, merely, like all mortals.