the fresh
face of the religious school-girl who smiled to him from the height of the
gallery. At other times he saw them both together, and each of them called
him and said to him: Come, come.

Oh! why all these obstacles, these doors, these walls, these prejudices and
that formidable barrier which he dared not pass, duty.

It seemed to him that a burning lava was escaping from his heart, running
into his veins and devouring him. His limbs were heavy and bruised; his
head was on fire like his heart, and his thoughts were enveloped in mire.
Often with his eye fixed on space, he contemplated some phantom visible to
himself alone; then big tears rolled slowly on his cheeks and fell one by
one on his bare chest, and he felt that they relieved him.

He had placed a statue of the Virgin at the foot of his bed: the one which
has a heart in flames and open arms. He looked on it as he went to sleep
and prayed the Mother, eternally chaste, to watch over his dreams.

But many times in his delirium he saw the Virgin come to life and take the
well-known face of her from whom he sought to flee, and come and find him
in his couch. And he woke with a start full of terror of himself at the
moment when, in his impious sacrilege, he felt the chaste bosom of the
Mother of God quiver beneath his kisses.

Then he opened his scared eyes and perceived before him the sweet form
which stretched its plaster arms to him in the shadow, and full of agony he
cried:

"_Mater inviolata, ora pro nobis_!"

But once he thought he heard a voice which answered:

"_Christe, audi nos_."

XXXII.

THE DEATH'S-HEAD.

"God is my witness that I did then
everything in the world to divert myself
and to heal myself."

A. DE MUSSET (_Confession d'un enfant du Siecle_).

One night he went out by stealth, crossed the market-place, and descended
the hill. He had the look of a man who was hiding himself, and he went back
several times, as if he was afraid of being followed. He reached the
cemetery, took a key from his pocket, cautiously opened the gate and closed
it behind him. At the bottom of the principal path there was a little
chapel which served for an ossuary. In it was a hideous accumulation of the
remains of several generations. The cemetery was becoming too full and it
had been necessary to make room. Here as elsewhere the cry was: "Room for
the young." And it is only justice. What would become of as if all the old
remained? Th