nce, war, and battle. Now decide! Will you, on
peril of your soul, sacrifice the welfare of these girls in this world
and the next, because of an impious dread of your husband's anger?"

Though rude and fettered by intolerance, the confessor's language was
(taking his view of the case) reasonable and just, because the honest
priest was himself convinced of what he said; a blind instrument of
Rodin, ignorant of the end in view, he believed firmly, that, in forcing
Frances to place these young girls in a convent, he was performing a
pious duty. Such was, and is, one of the most wonderful resources of the
order to which Rodin belonged--to have for accomplices good and sincere
people, who are ignorant of the nature of the plots in which they are the
principal actors.

Frances, long accustomed to submit to the influence of her confessor,
could find nothing to object to his last words. She resigned herself to
follow his directions, though she trembled to think of the furious anger
of Dagobert, when he should no longer find the children that a dying
mother had confided to his care. But, according to the priest's opinion,
the more terrible this anger might appear to her, the more she would show
her pious humility by exposing herself to it.

"God's will be done, father!" said she, in reply to her confessor.
"Whatever may happen, I wilt do my duty as a Christian--in obedience to
your commands."

"And the Lord will reward you for what you may have to suffer in the
accomplishment of this meritorious act. You promise then, before God,
that you will not answer any of your husband's questions, when he asks
you for the daughters of Marshal Simon?"

"Yes, father, I promise!" said Frances, with a shudder.

"And will preserve the same silence towards Marshal Simon himself, in
case he should return, before his daughters appear to me sufficiently
grounded in the faith to be restored to him?"

"Yes, father," said Frances, in a still fainter voice.

"You will come and give me an account of the scene that takes place
between you and your husband, upon his return?"

"Yes, father; when must I bring the orphans to your house?"

"In an hour. I will write to the superior, and leave the letter with my
housekeeper. She is a trusty person, and will conduct the young girls to
the convent."

After she had listened to the exhortations of her confessor, and received
absolution for her late sins, on condition of performing penance,
Dagobert's