The great negator, seated on a chair, looked at this woman praying, and at the dead man who had been his disciple, sleeping the sleep which Charlotte de Jussat was also sleeping; and, for the first time, feeling his mind powerless to sustain him, this analyst, almost inhuman by force of logic, bowed before the impenetrable mystery of destiny. The words of the only prayer he remembered: “Our Father who art in heaven,” came to his mind. Surely he did not pronounce them. Perhaps he never will pronounce them. But if he exist, then the only father toward whom they could turn in their hours of distress and in whom was their only resource, was their heavenly father. And voices of prayer the most touching went up. And if this heavenly father did only exist, should we have this hunger and not insist for him in such hours as this? “Thou wouldst not sent me if thou hadst not found me!” At that very moment, thanks to the lucidity of mind which accompanies the scholar into all crises, Adrien Sixte recalled this admirable sentence of Pascal in his “Mystère de Jésus”, and when the mother arose from her knees the philosopher was also weeping. THE END.