"You call him 'the Saint' also?" said Maria.
"Oh, yes!" the doctor answered, laughing. "They all call him that, all
save those who call him 'the Devil,' for at Jenne some do so already!"
How astonishing! This was news to them! Who called him "the Devil," and
why?
"Ah!" and the doctor put on the knowing look of one who is well
informed, but does not intend to tell all he knows. "Well," said he,
"there are two priests from Rome staying at Jenne for a holiday, two
priests, two priests--! They are very clever! They have not told me what
they think of the Saint, but, at any rate, the parish priest's ardour
has cooled considerably, and it has been the same with others. Those
priests are workers. You do not see it, but they are at work all the
time. They are insects--I say it without intending to speak ill of them,
indeed in this case their action may even be praiseworthy! They are
insects, which, when they wish to kill a plant, do not touch the fruit,
the flowers, the leaves, or the roots I may even say, for there a
poisonous draught might reach them, or a spade reveal their presence,
and they do not wish to be reached, do not wish to be seen.
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