Wherever havoc and ruin raged most
fiercely, wherever the pursuit was hottest and the slaughter most
cruel, there the intrepid priest was sure to be seen pursuing his
sacred duties in defiance of every peril. His hair-breadth
escapes from death; his extraordinary re-appearances in parts of
the country where no one ever expected to see him again, were
regarded by the poorer classes with superstitious awe. Wherever
Father Paul appeared, with his black dress, his calm face, and
the ivory crucifix which he always carried in his hand, the
people reverenced him as more than mortal; and grew at last to
believe, that, single-handed, he would successfully defend his
religion against the armies of the Republic. But their simple
confidence in his powers of resistance was soon destined to be
shaken. Fresh re-enforcements arrived in Brittany, and overran
the whole province from one end to the other. One morning, after
celebrating service in a dismantled church, and after narrowly
escaping with his life from those who pursued him, the priest
disappeared. Secret inquiries were made after him in all
directions; but he was heard of no more.
Many weary days had passed, and the dispirited peasantry had
already mourned him as dead, when some fishermen on the northern
coast observed a ship of light burden in the offing, making
signals to the shore. They put off to her in their boats; and on
reaching the deck saw standing before them the well-remembered
figure of Father Paul.
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