Manito eBooks

The huge
silver statue of the saint came next. It was a grotesque monster, borne
aloft on a wooden platform that wobbled on the shoulders of eight lusty
perspiring carriers. As it passed, all the onlookers raised their hats;
all save the Russians, the Little White Cows who, standing aside with
wonderment written on their childlike faces, were relieved from this
necessity, since the wearing of hats had been forbidden by their
leader, their self-styled Messiah, the divinely inspired Bazhakuloff;
they were to go bareheaded summer and winter, "like the Christians of
old." Some ardent believers went so far as to kneel on the stony
ground. The Duchess, the Catholic-to-be, had assumed this reverend
posture; she was on the other side of the street, surrounded by a
number of ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Heard, reviewing the crowd,
abandoned the idea of piercing that procession and exchanging a few
words with her. He would see her in the afternoon.
Then the bishop--the dignitary whom Don Francesco had called "not
exactly a liberal.


Pages:
63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87