But it matters little now. Good-by!"
He had his hand upon the door, but the priest again withheld him.
"When I tell you I believe your story, it is only to tell you more. I
believe that God has directed your wayward, wandering feet here to
His house, that you may lay down the burden of your weak and suffering
manhood before His altar, and become once more a child of His. I stand
here to offer you, not a refuge of a day or a night, but for all
time; not a hiding-place from man or woman, but from yourself, my
son--yourself, your weak and mortal self, more fatal to you than all.
I stand here to open for you not only the door of this humble cell, but
that of His yonder blessed mansion. You shall share my life with me; you
shall be one of my disciples; you shall help me strive for other souls
as I have striven for yours; the protection of the Church, which is
all-powerful, shall be around you if you wish to be known; you shall
hide yourself in its mysteries if you wish to be forgotten. You shall be
my child, my companion, my friend; all that my age can give you shall
be yours while I live, and it shall be your place one day to take up my
unfinished work when it falls from these palsied hands forever.
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