"Ah me--ah me!" sighed Father Capel; "how shall such a crime be expiated?"
"Father," moaned Gautran, rallying a little, "had I lived till to-morrow, I intended to buy masses for the repose of her soul. I will buy them now, and for my own soul too. I have money. Feel in my pocket; there is gold. Take it all--all--every piece--and tell me I am forgiven."
Father Capel did not attempt to take the money.
"Stolen gold will not buy absolution or the soul's repose," he said sadly. "Crime upon crime--sin upon sin! Gautran, evil spirits have been luring you to destruction."
"I did not steal the gold," gasped Gautran. "It was given to me--freely given."
"Forgiveness you cannot hope for," said Father Capel, "if in these awful moments you swerve from the truth by a hair's-breadth. Confess you stole the gold, and tell me from whom, so that it may be restored."
"May eternal torments be mine if I stole it! Believe me, father--believe me. I speak the truth."
"Who gave it to you, then?"
"The Advocate."
"The Advocate! He who defended you, and so blinded the judgment of men as to cause them to set a murderer loose?"