"And their prayers would not cost you a denier!" added Pichrocholle with a sigh.
"Oh, if only my daughter Mariotte had not run away at the age of fourteen with a jail-bird, she would now be in a convent, praying for her good father, the Tire-Laine! By the confession! That was the dream of my life," whereupon the thief crossed himself as the Mauvais-Garçon had done.
The words of the two bandits suited the Franc-Taupin. They were fresh proofs of the mixture of superstition and crime that marked the bandits' lives. Their fanaticism squared with his own projects. He proceeded with his story, to which his two comrades listened attentively:
"My niece has no religious vocation. She was taken to the convent, and is held there by force. She must come out. Will you help me to carry her off?'
"St. Cadouin!" cried the Mauvais-Garçon, terror stricken, and crossing himself anew. "That would be sacrilege!"
"To violate a holy place!" came from Grippe-Minaud, who grew pale and crossed himself like Pichrocholle. "By the confession! My hair stands on end at the bare thought of such a thing!"
Dumb and stupefied, the two brigands looked at each other with dilated eyes. The Franc-Taupin seemed in no wise disconcerted by their scruples. After a moment of silence he proceeded:
"Mauvais-Garçons and Tire-Laines are good Catholics, I know. Therefore, be easy, my devout friends, I have the power to absolve you."
"Are you going to make us believe you are an Apostolic Commissioner?"
"What does it matter, provided I guarantee to you a plenary indulgence? Eh, comrades!"