On this good understanding Church and State parted. As soon as he was in the street Gerard caught the priest's hand, and kissed it.
“Oh, sir! Oh, your reverence. You have saved me from the fiery stake. What can I say, what do? what?”
“Nought, foolish lad. Bounty rewards itself. Natheless—Humph?—I wish I had done't without leasing. It ill becomes my function to utter falsehoods.”
“Falsehood, sir?” Gerard was mystified.
“Didst not hear me say thou hadst given me that same phosphorus? 'Twill cost me a fortnight's penance, that light word.” The cure sighed, and his eye twinkled cunningly.
“Nay, nay,” cried Gerard eagerly. “Now Heaven forbid! That was no falsehood, father: well you knew the phosphorus was yours, is yours.” And he thrust the bottle into the cure's hand. “But alas, 'tis too poor a gift: will you not take from my purse somewhat for Holy Church?” and now he held out his purse with glistening eyes.
“Nay,” said the other brusquely, and put his hands quickly behind him; “not a doit. Fie! fie! art pauper et exul. Come thou rather each day at noon and take thy diet with me; for my heart warms to thee;” and he went off very abruptly with his hands behind him.
They itched.
But they itched in vain.
Where there's a heart there's a Rubicon.