"But——-" "The Lord have mercy upon you! Where is your faith? Get down on your knees and pray!" The officer instantly obeyed. They both prayed—it was real prayer—and their hearts became lighter. The _fiacre_ drew up at the gate of a beautiful house in the Champs Elysées. It had to be kept waiting, for there was no money to pay the _cocher_. The Maréchale was ushered into a luxurious apartment, and was soon talking with a Russian Countess about her soul. They had never met before, but they found common ground. "I too," said the Countess, "adore the Christ! Come and see.... Look, the Christ!" They stood before a beautiful picture of the thorn-crowned Redeemer. "I adore Him!" she repeated. "But it is one thing," said the Maréchale, "to adore Him here in these charming surroundings, and another thing to adore Him amidst the filth, the immorality and the misery of the Villette, where I live night and day among the poor and the dying, and where I have devoted young comrades who have left comfortable homes and bright prospects, and are now labouring for Christ and receiving nothing for it. What is your adoring Christ compared with theirs?" The Countess was silent, and evidently felt bad. She had suddenly received a new ray of light upon the adoration of Jesus, and, realising that deeds are better than words, she left the room for a minute, to return with an offering of 500 francs. It was by such gifts that the Army was maintained on the Continent. The Maréchale, it is somewhat strange to discover, was not only the apostle but the financier of the _Armée du Salut_ in France. Others, of course, could administer the funds, but on her fell the burden of replenishing the exchequer. As years passed and the work extended, the task became more and more heavy. Officers had to be supported, the rent of houses and halls paid, the Training Home, the Rescue Homes, the Orphanages, the Homes of Rest maintained, and to meet all this outlay the Maréchale toiled, travelled, and wrote countless letters. Those who adored the Christ sent her their gifts from many lands. While there were many generous supporters of the Army in France and Switzerland, the largest contributions came from the home-country. We have noted that the General did not like to see Catherine’s hand-writing, because he thought of her weak spine. Yet in one day she and her secretary would sometimes write over a hundred letters with their own hands, which at the end were too cramped to go on with more. Experience had taught her the value of a personal application. Many a well-wisher who would have given £5 in response to a typewritten letter, did much better on receiving a warm appeal in the leader’s own handwriting. She even made it a rule to write receipts herself.