Set All Afire a Novel Of

THE PENROSE HOSPITAL AUXILIARY has collected books for you to read during your hospital stay. You may take this book home if you have not finished it when you are dismissed. We know you will return it, and perhaps you will have other books to contribute to the Book Cart. Please return or bring additional books to the Auxiliary Office. If you have questions, call 630-5267. "Xavier's generosity speaks to every age and seldom so clearly and compellingly as in this book." -The New York Times t The example set by Francis impressed all who met him, rich and poor, cultured or sav age-even the King of Portugal, who tried to dissuade him from going to India, a voyage that took Francis more than a year. The pri vations and terrors of his missions took a heavy toll, but Francis went on. t Everywhere the Papal Nuncio went, he left a trail of converts and an impressed populace in his wake. In Japan, despite hostile Buddhist monks and abbots, Francis made great prog ress. And, on the very eve of his setting out for the conquest of China, four hundred years ago, he died. But by then his fiery zeal and tremendous spirit had caught hold of so many people that his name and work still live on. SET ALL AFIRE was originally published by the J.B. Lippincott Company. SET ALL AFIRE t by Louis de Wohl ALL SAINTS PRESS, INC. • NEW YORK SET ALL AFIRE Lippincott edition published November, 1953 An ALL SAINTS PRESS edition 1st printing •••••••••• September, 1963 Biblical quotations: From THE NEW TESTAMENT in the translation of Ronald Knox, copyright Sheed & Ward, Inc., New York, 1944. From THE OLD TESTAMENT Volume 2 in the translation of Ronald Knox, copyright Sheed & Ward, Inc., New York, 1950. This ALL SAINTS Plrass edition includes every word contained in the original, higher-priced edition. It is printed from brand-new plates made from completely reset, clear, easy-to-read type. Published by All Saints Press, Inc., 630 Fifth Avenue, New York 20, N.Y. ALL SAINTS PRESS editions are distributed in the U.S. by Affiliated Publishers, a division of Pocket Books, Inc, 630 Fifth Avenue, New York 20, N.Y. Copyright, 1953, by Loui, de Wohl. All right, reurued. This ALL SAINTS PRESS edition is published by arrangement wit Ir. ]. B. Lippincott Company, Inc. Printed in the U.S.A. SET ALL AFIRE BOOK ONE No ONE EVER disputed that the Street-of-the-dogs in Paris was well named. The students of Montaigu College said it was called after the students of the College of St. Barbe. The students of St. Barbe said the same thing about those of Montaigu. The worthy citizens of Paris said it was called after the students of both colleges. Real dogs were few. It was the one street on which they could not find much worth eating. When they found anything, it was sure to be some thing the students of St. Barbe had thrown away. Those of Montaigu did not throw away anything-they ate it them selves. Montaigu was one of the poorest, St. Barbe-relatively speaking-one of the richest and most progressive of the col leges. On dry, sunny days the Street-of-the-dogs was dirty. On rainy days it was almost impassable. The dark-haired young man at the window of a small room in St. Barbe chuckled. "Eh, Pierre," he said, "ever seen a donkey going to college?" Pierre Favre, twenty-two, with the face of dreamer, went on writing, but he smiled. He did not know that his smile won over everyone who saw it. "If it weren't against Charity, I'd say I've seen many," he answered. "Ass," said the young man at the window. "I mean a real donkey. Four feet. Tail. Come and have a look." Obediently, Favre rose, quill in hand, and joined his friend at the window. 'There's a beggar with the donkey," he said. "What a fool he must be, to try and get anything there, of all places." I 2 SET A.LL A.FIRE "Oh, I don't know," mused Favre. "His donkey is laden with books. Perhaps he wants to sell them." "What a chancel Poor old man." "Do you know, Francis," said Favre, "I found out that we always call a man old when he is about sixteen years older than we are ourselves. That man is in his mid-thirties." "I don't believe it. He's getting bald, isn't he? I wish he'd turn round so that I can see his face. Ah, he's finished talking to the doorkeeper. No sale." "He's limping." Francis turned away from the window. "Shame," he said angrily. "Well, yes, they might have given the poor man some- thing.... " "It isn't that, Pierre. The man's a Basque." "Well?" "The face and hands of a man of good family. He has no business being a beggar. Absurd. Wish I knew his name. I'd write a letter to his relatives." "Would you now?" Little Pierre Favre beamed. "You'd probably never finish it. I don't think you've written one in the two years that we've been sharing the same room." ''You're quite wrong. I write every time I need money, three times a year." "But your famous letter to the King is still on your desk, I believe-and you started that months ago." ''You're better with the quill than I am, my good Pierre. And it's a very difficult letter. By the Virgin, Pierre, you have no idea, how difficult! My family wants me to become a canon in Pamplona. But the chapter will never elect me, unless I present my patent of nobility." "Well, you are a nobleman, aren't you?" "I am, but anybody calls himself a nobleman these days ...." "I don't." Pierre smiled. "The only thing I ever lorded it over was a flock of sheep in Savoy. It's a good thing, looking after sheep, Francis. Gentle creatures. And it gives you time to think. I used to weep, longing for an education, then. Now that I am getting it, I feel I should never have left my sheep." SET .4.LL .4.FIRE s "You'll be a good priest, one of these days," said Francis. "And you'll have a lot of two-legged sheep then. Not so sure that you'll find them so gentle, though. I also have had some experience with sheep, you know. Helped my father and brothers round up a :Hock of the brutes when their owners tried to smuggle them across our estate without paying toll." "But I thought it was the privilege of the King . ," "That's just it, don't you see? Exactly fifty years ago my father was granted by royal patent, for himself and his heirs, the civil jurisdiction of Ydocin in the valley of Ybargoiti, with all the homicides, demi-homicides, sixantenas, calonyas, and civil rights-together with the right to create mayors, judges, bailiffs and other officials." "Phew," said Pierre, overawed. "What on earth is a demi homicide and a calonya?" "They're fines," Francis said nonchalantly. "Paid by the families of murderers, libelers and the like. Anyway-I chased sheep and you looked after sheep." "But if your father had such a patent, what are you worried about?" "Oh that-that's nothing. The chapter of Pamplona wouldn't accept a man just for having that kind of thing. You've got to be a hidalgo, Pierre, a man with four noble grandparents. So I am, too. But it has to be confirmed by His Majesty." "It's simpler to be a simple man," said Pierre Favre. "But if this is so important to you, why don't you finish the letter?" "I told you, it isn't so easy. Besides-quite between you and me, I don't know whether I want to be a member of the chapter. There are other plans-life may be more enjoyable elsewhere. I don't know yet. There is lots of time ... ," "For playing handball." Pierre Favre smiled again. "There's nothing wrong with that," was the quick answer. "And I'm good at it. I'll win the university match this year, just as I won the last. I'll get down to old Picaro's speeches in time for the examination, never fear." "Picaro's speeches?" "Yes, yes-the speech against Catalina and against Aver- roes. , ." 4 SET ALL AFIRE Pierre Favre shook with laughter. "You mean Cicero," he spluttered. "And it's Catilina, not Catalina. And Verres, not Averroes," "All right, all right, you know I can never remember names." "You do remember the most difficult ones of the lot, Ydocin and what was it? Ybargoiti and .. ," "That's different. Those are Basque names. Real names. I don't really care whether Picaro wrote a speech against Aver roes or against Verres. Now, if you'll forgive me, I must run. There's a contest on the meadow of Pre-aux-clercs .•• ," "Handball again?" "No, wrestling and fencing. These Frenchman think they know all about it and I must go and take them down a peg or two. Miguel! Where is that fellow?" "You called, master?" The valet had the deep-set eyes and high cheekbones of the Basque mountains. "My horse, Miguel. We're off for the afternoon." • • • The limping man with his book-laden donkey was a beg gar.

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