th at last in the sight of Heaven. Thereupon she confessed that
all that she had said during the last fortnight against Grandier was
calumnious and false, and that all her actions had been done at the
instigation of the Franciscan Pere Lactance, the director, Mignon, and
the Carmelite brothers. Pere Lactance, not in the least taken aback,
declared that her confession was a fresh wile of the devil to save her
master Grandier. She then made an urgent appeal to the bishop and to M.
de Laubardemont, asking to be sequestered and placed in charge of other
priests than those who had destroyed her soul, by making her bear false
witness against an innocent man; but they only laughed at the pranks the
devil was playing, and ordered her to be at once taken back to the house
in which she was then living. When she heard this order, she darted out
of the choir, trying to escape through the church door, imploring
those present to come to her assistance and save her from everlasting
damnation. But such terrible fruit had the proclamation borne that noon
dared respond, so she was recaptured and taken back to the house in
which she was sequestered, never to leave it again.

CHAPTER X

The next day a still more extraordinary scene took place. While M. de
Laubardemont was questioning one of the nuns, the superior came down
into the court, barefooted; in her chemise, and a cord round her neck;
and there she remained for two hours, in the midst of a fearful storm,
not shrinking before lightning, thunder, or rain, but waiting till M. de
Laubardemont and the other exorcists should come out. At length the door
opened and the royal commissioner appeared, whereupon Sister Jeanne des
Anges, throwing herself at his feet, declared she had not sufficient
strength to play the horrible part they had made her learn any longer,
and that before God and man she declared Urbain Grandier innocent,
saying that all the hatred which she and her companions had felt against
him arose from the baffled desires which his comeliness awoke--desires
which the seclusion of conventional life made still more ardent. M. de
Laubardemont threatened her with the full weight of his displeasure, but
she answered, weeping bitterly, that all she now dreaded was her sin,
for though the mercy of the Saviour was great, she felt that the crime
she had committed could never be pardoned. M. de Laubardemont exclaimed
that it was the demon who dwelt in her who was speaking, but she