r times regularly
every year has monsieur come to hear this mass."

"It is very strange!" I said, speaking to myself.

"Not at all," said the sacristan. "It is very natural, seeing that he is
himself the _founder of it_!"

Worse and worse! The inconsistency of the reviler of things sacred, was
becoming more barefaced and unpardonable. "Let him taunt me again!" I
exclaimed, walking homeward; "let him mock me for my weak and childish
notions, as he calls them, and attempt to be facetious at the expense of
all that is holy, and good, and consolatory in life. Let him attempt it,
and I will annihilate him with a word!" When, however, I grew more
collected, I began to understand how, by such proceeding, I might shoot
very wide of my mark, and give my friend an advantage after all. He had
explained his presence at the church to his colleague by attributing it
to a visit paid to a sick priest there. He should have no opportunity to
prevaricate if I once challenged him. Now, he might have the effrontery
to deny what I had seen with my own eyes, and could swear to. By lying
in wait for him again, and accosting him whilst he was in the very act
of perpetrating his solemn farce, I should deprive him of all power of
evasion and escape. And so I determined it should be.

In the meanwhile I kept my own counsel, and we went on as usual. I
learned from the sacristan when the baron was next expected at the mass,
and, until that day, did not present myself again at the Place St
Sulpice. Before that time arrived, there arose a touching incident,
which, as leading to important consequences, deserves especial notice.

It was growing late one evening of this same summer--the surgeon was
fatigued with the labours of the day--I was on the point of leaving
him--he of retiring to rest, when Francois announced a stranger. An old
man appeared. He was short, and very thin; his cheeks were pale--his
hair hoary. Benignity beamed in his countenance, on which traces of
suffering lingered, not wholly effaced by piety and resignation. There
was an air of sweetness and repose about the venerable stranger, that at
the first sight gained your respect, if not regard. When he entered the
apartment he bowed with ceremony--and then waited timidly for
countenance from the baron.

"What is the matter with you?" asked the surgeon roughly.

"Allow me to be seated," said the stranger, drawing his breath with
difficulty, and speaking with a weak and tremulous v