meal, a beggar, an outcast in ragged clothes. O Cœlestin what have you done!
With a commanding look the Prior controlled the anger of the brothers, and with a still more commanding look he spoke to Brother Cœlestin. “Whom do you bring here, my son?”
“Jesus, the Christ!” he replied, and raised his blue eyes to the Prior.
Laughter resounded on all sides.
“He has lost his mind! He is laughing at us!”
Thus ran the opinions.
“Blaspheme not, my son,” answered the irritated Prior.
“I do not blaspheme, father, and I repeat: I bring Jesus the Christ. Did he not say himself: ‘What ye do to the least among men, that ye do unto me’? Consider, father! The poor fellow lay on the highway, suffering pain, in the sun. Did not God himself send us in his pity to lessen his suffering? It was for that reason that all the doors were shut against us, that we might succor this dying one and bring him here. If our baskets had been full of food, we could not have helped him, so everything was arranged wisely by Providence.”
