Where was his boy at that moment? The priest turned, re-entered
the church, and locking the door, passed up the aisle extinguishing the
lights as he went along. He stood before the altar and once more looked
at the sanctuary lamp. It was certainly burning with unusual brightness
to-night. It set weird, fantastic shadows dancing along the walls and
peopled the dim recesses of the church with goblin shapes. It seemed
beckoning to him, calling to him, drawing him gradually to the steps of
the altar, where he sank upon his knees to pray once more for his
wandering boy.
For yet an hour the priest lingered before the Tabernacle. Then, utterly
worn out in mind and body, he passed through the sacristy, locked the
door, and mounted the steps of his own house to seek a few hours of
rest before commencing the arduous duties of Christmas day.
The church and rectory were situated on a hill and the priest stood in
his doorway and looked down upon the town below. It was now after
midnight, but many lights were still burning and the faint sound of
distant merry-making reached the priest's ears. Was his boy down there
among the revellers?
Beyond the town lay the river, frozen, dark and still; and beyond that
again shone the lights of the neighboring city. Was his boy over there
beyond that dark, silent river? Was he over there in the city in some
one of those dens of iniquity which had lured so many young men to their
ruin?
Well, wherever the boy was he must be left now to the care of God and
his angel for Father Xavier had done all he could that night; and the
priest went in and closed the door.
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