"My poor boys, we are slaves, while Eloi had the fortune of being free; but he utilized his freedom for the benefit of his fellows. He had around him several servants who adored him. I knew some of them, among others, Bauderic, Tituen, Buchin, Andre, Martin and John. So you see old Bonaik has a good memory. But how can one fail to remember anything connected with Eloi!" "Do you know, master, that it is an honor to us poor goldsmith slaves, to number such a man in our profession?" "A great honor, my boys! Certes, we should be proud of it. Imagine that the reputation of the good Eloi for charity was such that his name was known all over Gaul, and even in other countries. Strangers considered it an honor to call upon the goldsmith who was at once so great an artist and so good a man. If anyone asked in Paris where he lived, the first passer-by would answer: 'Do you want to know where the good Eloi lives? Go where you will find the largest number of poor people gathered together. He lives there.'" "Oh, the good Eloi," said one of the lads with eyes moist with tears. "Oh, the good Eloi, so well named!" "Yes, my friends, he was as active in charity as at his trade. In the evening, at his meal hour, he would send out his servants in different directions to gather people who suffered hunger, and also travelers in distress. They were taken to him and he fed them. Filling the office of a servant when they came, he helped some to unload their packs, sprinkled warm water on the hands of others, poured out wine into their cups, broke their bread, carved their meat and distributed it--all himself. After having thus served all with sweet pleasure, he would sit down himself, and only then did he himself share in the meal that he offered these poor people. That was his way of practicing charity." "And how did the good Eloi look, Father Bonaik? Was he tall or short?" "He was tall and of a florid complexion. In his younger days, his apprentice Thil said to me, his black hair was naturally curly. His hand, though hardened by the hammer, was white and well-shaped; there was something angelic in his expression; yet his straightforward eyes were full of keenness." "That is just the way I would picture him to myself, dressed in the magnificent robes that he used to sell in order to ransom slaves." "When he grew in years, the good Eloi renounced splendor altogether. He wore only a robe of coarse wool, with a cord for belt.... When about forty he was appointed bishop of Noyon at his own request." "He? Did so great an artist aspire after a bishopric?"