Lebanon had
shown itself masterful in organization, but it had also shown that that
which makes enemies is not so deep or great a thing as that which makes
friends. Jealous, envious, narrow and bitter Manitou had been, but she
now saw Lebanon in a new light. It was a strange truth that if Lebanon
had saved the whole town of Manitou, it would not have been the same to
the people as the saving of the church. Beneath everything in
Manitou--beneath its dirt and its drunkenness, its irresponsibility and
the signs of primeval savagery which were part of its life, there was the
tradition of religion, the almost fanatical worship of that which was
their master, first and last, in spite of all--the Church. Not one of its
citizens but would have turned with horror from the man who cursed his
baptism; not one but would want the last sacrament when his time came.
Lebanon had saved the Catholic church, the temple of their faith, and in
an hour was accomplished what years had not wrought.
The fire at the church was out. A few houses had been destroyed, and
hundreds of others had been saved. The fire-brigade of Lebanon, with its
two engines, had performed prodigies of valour. The work done, the men
marched back, but with Osterhaut sitting on one fire-engine and Jowett on
the other, through crowds of cheering, roaring workmen, rivermen,
shantymen, and black-eyed habitants.
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