One clear April morning, they were walking to the church, Gracieuse and Ramuntcho.

She, with an air half grave, half mocking, with a particular and very odd air, leading him there to make him do a penance which she had ordered.
In the holy enclosure, the flowerbeds of the tombs were coming into bloom again, as also the rose bushes on the walls.

Once more the new saps were awakening above the long sleep of the dead.

They went in together, through the lower door, into the empty church, where the old "benoite" in a black mantilla was alone, dusting the altars.
When Gracieuse had given to Ramuntcho the holy water and they had made their signs of the cross, she led him through the sonorous nave, paved with funereal stones, to a strange image on the wall, in a shady corner, under the men's tribunes.
It was a painting, impregnated with ancient mysticism, representing the figure of Jesus with eyes closed, forehead bloody, expression lamentable and dead; the head seemed to be cut off, separated from the body, and placed there on a gray linen cloth.

Above, were written the long Litanies of the Holy Face, which have been composed, as everybody knows, to be recited in penance by repentant blasphemers.