At this late hour, when the
declining luminary was sinking in royal splendour behind the little Gers
and the big Gers, those two huge ridges of bare rock, spotted with
patches of short herbage, formed nothing but a neutral, somewhat violet,
background, as though, indeed, they were two curtains of sober hue drawn
across the margin of the horizon.
And higher and still higher, in front of this immensity, did Abbe Judaine
with both hands raise the Blessed Sacrament. He moved it slowly from one
to the other horizon, causing it to describe a huge sign of the cross
against the vault of heaven. He saluted the convents, the heights of Le
Buala, the Serre de Julos, and the Miramont, upon his left; he saluted
the huge fallen rocks of the dim valleys, and the empurpled hills of
Visens, on his right; he saluted the new and the old town, the castle
bathed by the Gave, the big and the little Gers, already drowsy, in front
of him; and he saluted the woods, the torrents, the mountains, the faint
chains linking the distant peaks, the whole earth, even beyond the
visible horizon: Peace upon earth, hope and consolation to mankind! The
multitude below had quivered beneath that great sign of the cross which
enveloped it. It seemed as though a divine breath were passing, rolling
those billows of little pale faces which were as numerous as the waves of
an ocean. A loud murmur of adoration ascended; all those parted lips
proclaimed the glory of God when, in the rays of the setting sun, the
illumined monstrance again shone forth like another sun, a sun of pure
gold, describing the sign of the cross in streaks of flame upon the
threshold of the Infinite.
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