help knowing about you two before she went off with
Beauvais to Paris. I heard many things but I would
not believe ... I did not want to believe, because
. . . .' He hesitated, flushed and went on, 'because,
as I think you have long known, I also . . . but for
me it was a most deadly sin. I have taken a solemn
vow to our Lord that I will be pure when I enter His
service. You were free and I feared — ah, but how
much I feared — that her coming across our path
might divid.e us/
They stared at each other through the gathering
dusk. Then: 'Nothing can ever divide us,' said
Christophe.
'But she might have bred hatred between you and
me/ Jan persisted, and this thought seemed to him so
fearful that he gripped Christophe's hand as once
long ago he had gripped it on those same hills in their
childhood. And now, even as then, he felt vaguely
afraid: CI do not want to lose you,5 he murmured.
After this they turned and walked on more slowly,
each engrossed by his thoughts, and when next Jan
spoke his voice sounded indifferent: 'Eh bien, she
has gone. She will never come back — she has
ceased to exist.'
But Christophe was not deceived by those words,
divining the trouble that lay beneath them.
§3
The weeks passed and autumn gave place to
winter. During that November the Cure Martel
appeared to recapture his old eloquence, so that
people were flocking to hear his sermons. In Palestine
there was a great offensive:
CA crusade! A holy crusade!5 cried the Cure.
'Ah, my children, it is terrible to be old. Were I
young I would not be here raising my voice, but in
Palestine raising my hand against those who have so