ey went on. "Is it an honest
mind, a decent life, an austerity of living as great as that of any
priest, a neighbourliness that gives and takes in fairness--"

"No, no, no," interposed the Cure eagerly. "So you have lived here,
Monsieur; I can vouch for that. Charity and a good heart have gone with
you always."

"Do you mean that a man is an infidel because he cannot say, as Louis
Trudel said to me, 'Do you believe in God?' and replies, as I replied,
'God knows!' Is that infidelity? If God is God, He alone knows when
the mind or the tongue can answer in the terms of that faith which you
profess. He knows the secret desires of our hearts, and what we believe,
and what we do not believe; He knows better than we ourselves know--if
there is a God. Does a man conjure God, if he does not believe in
God? 'God knows!' is not a statement of infidelity. With me it was a
phrase--no more. You ask me to bare my inmost soul. I have not learned
how to confess. You ask me to lay bare my past, to prove my identity.
For conscience sake you ask that, and I for conscience sake say I will
not, Monsieur. You, when you enter your priestly life, put all your past
behind you. It is dead for ever: all its deeds and thoughts and desires,
all its errors--sins. I have entered on a life here which is to me as
much a new life as your priesthood is to you. Shall I not have the right
to say, that may not be disinterred? Have I not the right to say, Hands
off? For the past I am responsible, and for the past I will speak from
the past; but for the deeds of the present I will speak only from the
present. I am not a Frenchman; I did not steal the little cross from the
church door here, nor the golden chalices in Quebec; nor did I seek to
injure the Governor's residence. I have not been in Quebec for three
years."

He ceased speaking, and fixed his eyes on the Abbe, who now met his look
fairly.

"In the way of justice, there is nothing hidden that shall not be
revealed, nor secret that shall not be made known," answered the
Abbe. "Prove that you were not in Quebec on the day the robbery was
committed." There was silence. The Abbe's pertinacity was too difficult.
The Seigneur saw the grim look in Charley's face, and touched the Abbe
on the arm. "Let us walk a little outside. Come, Cure" he added. "It
is right that Monsieur should have a few minutes alone. It is a serious
charge against him, and reflection will be good for us all."

He motioned the cons