She stopped singing. Christophe had lifted his
head and was gazing up into her face intently:
'Enfantounet . . . why do you look at me so . . .?'
she faltered, for she thought that his eyes seemed
strange — very old, very grave, very full of pity.
§2
Jan listened to his cousin with incredulous amaze-
ment: 'Comment, you would have me believe you
saw Jesus —yet you cannot even remember His
face?3
cNo, I cannot remember His face,9 said Christophe.
They were sitting in the woods just beyond the
town, near the spot where Jan had slain his last
couleuvre, and the woods were beginning to smell of
spring, for March had recently passed into April.
Jan persisted: 'And you say that He bathed His
feet in a stream and that one of His feet was bleeding?
How much did it bleed?'
clt bled quite a lot — and it pained Him.5
'How do you know that it pained?3
'Because I could feel the pain,3 replied Christophe.
cBut why should our Lord have blessed the stream
as though He were grateful? I do not believe it!
The Cure blesses water but that is for us, in order
that we may benefit by it; it keeps away fiends when
it has been blessed.3
Christophe answered: 'Yet I know that He did
feel grateful . . .3
cAjo.d you want me to believe that He actually
spoke?3
'Yes, He spoke of a bird that He held — it was
singing.3
'And what did He say?3 demanded Jan,
'He said: "This is my brother —shew mercy to
all things33/
198