“But the facts which I have just related are also so well known that no one would care to contest them. It is superabundantly proved that science was absolutely powerless against the strange disease by which Jules had been attacked. As for the cause of his cure, every one can place it differently, according to the point of view which he chooses to assume. I, who had previously believed only in purely natural phenomena, saw clearly that its explanation must be sought in a higher order of things; and every day I gave thanks to God, who, putting an end to my long and cruel trial in such an unexpected way, had approached me in the way most adapted to make me bow before him.” “I understand you, and it seems also to me that such was the divine plan.” After these words, I remained some time silent and absorbed in my reflections. The conversation returned to the boy so wonderfully cured. The father’s heart came back to him, as the needle does to the pole. 108 “Since that time,” said he, “his piety is angelic. You will see him soon. The nobleness of his feelings is visible in his face. He is well-born, his character is honest and dignified. He is incapable of lies or meanness. And his piety has not been at the expense of his natural qualities. He is studying in a school close by, kept by M. Conangle, in the Rue du Mirail. The poor child has quickly made up for his lost time. He loves his studies. He is the first in his class. At the last examination, he took the highest prize. But, above all, he is the best and most amiable. He is the favorite of his teachers and schoolmates. He is our joy, our consolation, and--” At this moment the door opened, and Jules came with his mother into the room where we were sitting. I embraced him affectionately. The glow of health was on his face. His forehead is large, high, and magnificent; his attitude has a modesty and gentle firmness which inspires a secret respect. His eyes, large and bright, show a rare intelligence, and absolute purity and a beautiful soul. “You are happy to have such a son,” said I to M. Lacassagne. “Yes, sir, I am happy. But my poor wife and I have suffered a great deal.” “Do not be sorry for that,” said I, going a little away from Jules. “This path of grief was the way which led you from darkness to light, from death to life, from yourself to God. The Blessed Virgin has shown herself twice in this event as the mother of life. She has given your son his temporal life in order to give you the true life which knows no end.” I left this family, so greatly blessed by our Lord, and, still under the impression of what I had heard and seen, I wrote, with my heart full of the feelings produced, what you have just read. PART XI. I.