Whilst Felicien was so violently beseeching him, he seemed to see them both behind the blonde head of the petitioner--these two idolised women, the one for whom his son prayed, and the one who had died for her child.

They were there in all their physical beauty, in all their loving devotion, and he could not tell where he had found strength to resist, so entirely did his whole being go out towards them.

Overcome, sobbing, not knowing how he could again become calm, he demanded from Heaven the courage to tear out his heart, since this heart belonged no longer to God alone.
Until evening Monseigneur continued at prayer.

When he at last reappeared he was white as wax, distressed, anxious, but still resolute.
He could do nothing more, but he repeated to his son the terrible word--"Never!" It was God alone who had the right to relieve him from his promise; and God, although implored, gave him no sign of change.

It was necessary to suffer.
Some days had passed.