was Michaelmas eve, and
tomorrow would be Michaelmas day, and there was a promise to be redeemed
on Michaelmas day! He had high hopes of its redemption according to his
own wishes; for he was a vain Seigneur, and he had had his way in all
things all his life, as everybody knew. Importunity with discretion was
his motto, and he often vowed to the Cure that there was no other motto
for the modern world.

The Cure's visit to the tailor's shop on this particular day had unusual
interest, for it concerned his dear ambition, the fondest aspiration of
his life: to bring the infidel tailor (they could not but call a man an
infidel whose soul was negative--the word agnostic had not then become
usual) from the chains of captivity into the freedom of the Church.
The Cure had ever clung to his fond hope; and it was due to his
patient confidence that there were several parishioners who now carried
Charley's name before the shrine of the blessed Virgin, and to the
little calvaries by the road-side. The wife of Filion Lacasse never
failed to pray for him every day. The thousand dollars gained by the
saddler on the tailor's advice had made her life happier ever since,
for Filion had become saving and prudent, and had even got her a "hired
girl." There were at least a half-dozen other women, including Madame
Dauphin, who did the same.

That he might listen again to the good priest on his holy hobby,
inflamed with this passion of missionary zeal, the Seigneur, this
morning, had thrown doubt upon the ultimate success of the Cure's
efforts.

"My dear Cure" said the Seigneur, "it is true, I think, what the tailor
suggested to my brother--on my soul, I wonder the Abbe gave in, for
a more obstinate fellow I never knew!--that a man is born with the
disbelieving maggot in his brain, or the butterfly of belief, or
whatever it may be called. It's constitutional--may be criminal, but
constitutional. It seems to me you would stand more chance with the Jew,
Greek, or heretic, than our infidel. He thinks too much--for a tailor,
or for nine tailors, or for one man."

He pulled his nose, as if he had said a very good thing indeed. They
were walking slowly towards the village during this conversation, and
the Cure, stopping short, brought his stick emphatically down in his
palm several times, as he said:

"Ah, you will not see! You will not understand. With God all things are
possible. Were it the devil himself in human form, I should work and
p