"A padre ought not to be married," said the doctor. "You know what St. Paul said, 'A married man seeks to please his wife and not God.'"
"You have put your foot in it now," said Aurelle. "Don't talk to him about St. Paul; he has just been strafing him badly."
"Excuse me," said the padre, "I only strafed a bishop."
"Padre," said the doctor, "judge not——"
"Oh, I know," said the padre, "the Master said that, but He did not know any bishops." Then he returned to his old subject. "Tell me, O'Grady, you are Irish; why have the Catholic chaplains more influence than we?"
"Padre," said the doctor, "listen to a parable. It is your turn. A man had committed a murder. He was not suspected, but remorse made him restless and miserable. One day, as he was passing an Anglican church, it seemed to him that the secret would be easier to bear if he could share it with someone else, so he entered and asked the vicar to hear his confession.
"The vicar was a very well brought up young man, and had been at Eton and Oxford. Enchanted with this rare piece of luck, he said eagerly, 'Most certainly, open your heart to me; you can talk to me as if I were your father!' The other began: 'I have killed a man.' The vicar sprang to his feet. 'And you come here to tell me that? Horrible murderer! I am not sure that it is not my duty, as a citizen to take you to the nearest police station. In any case it is my duty as a gentleman not to keep you a moment longer under my roof.'
"And the man went away. A few miles farther on he saw a Roman Catholic church. A last hope made him enter, and he knelt down behind some old women who were waiting by the confessional. When his turn came he could just distinguish the priest praying in the shadows, his head in his hands. 'Father,' he said, 'I am not a Catholic, but I should like to confess to you.' 'I am listening, my son.' 'Father, I have committed murder.'
"He awaited the effect of this terrible revelation. In the austere silence of the church the voice of the priest said simply, 'How many times, my son?'"
"Doctor," said the padre, "you know that I am Scotch. I can only take in a story eight days after I hear it."