—­No, Monseigneur.

—­Ah, do not tell a falsehood.  It is a mortal sin to tell a falsehood in confession.  Who is your Confessor?

—­He is Monsieur Matou.

—­Ah, Matou! the Abbe Matou.  Yes, yes, he has spoken to you about it, I know him; he must have spoken to you about it.  Come, tell me all about that.

—­Well, once he asked me....

—­Ah, ah! well, well! do not stop.  What is it he asked you?

—­He asked me ... ah! it is a long time ago, before my first communion.

—­Well?

—­He asked me, if I did not go and play with the little boys.

—­And then?

—­If I had not culpable relations with them.

—­Culpable relations with little boys, well!  And what did you answer him?

—­I answered him that I had not.

—­That you had not!  Was that quite true?  Do not blush, and do not tell a falsehood.  I shall see if you are going to tell a falsehood.

—­Yes, Monseigneur, it was quite true; I did not even know what Monsieur
Matou meant.

—­And you know it now?

—­Yes, he explained it to me.

—­Oh, oh! he explained it to you.  And how did he explain that to you?

—­He told me....

—­Let us see what he told you.  Come, come, you most not hang down your head:  see, lift up this pretty face and show me this little dimple; what did the Abbe Matou say to you?...  Eh, eh! who is there! who is knocking at the door?  Is it you, Gaudinet?  Rise up, my little daughter, and go and sit down there, in the corner.  Come in, Gaudinet, come in then.

Gaudinet put his head discreetly inside.

—­Monseigneur, I came to inform you that the Cure of Althausen has been there for some time.

—­There? where is that?

—­In the cabinet.

—­What! in the cabinet?  Ah, are you mad, Gaudinet, to send people in this way into my cabinet?  I do not approve of that, I do not approve of that at all.  What does that Cure of Althausen want with me?

LXXXVI.

SERIOUS TALK.

“Such were the words of the man of the Rock; his authority was too great, his wisdom too deep, not to obey him.”

  CHATEAUBRIAND (Atala).

Marcel had not heard these last words.  At Gaudinet’s first word, he had quickly vanished, foreseeing that a terrible tempest would burst upon his head, if the Bishop should suspect that he had been a witness of his way of hearing little girls’ confessions, the usual way however of nearly all priests; I appeal to the memories of the Lord’s sheep.

—­Monsieur le Cure!... cried Gaudinet, opening the door.  Ah, he is no longer there.  He has gone away, Monseigneur.  I had told him, in fact, that your Lordship was very busy, and, no doubt, he wished not to trouble you.

—­I was, in fact, expecting him.  He will return to-morrow.  But, for God’s sake, Gaudinet, never let anybody enter that room without warning me beforehand.