After a momentary silence the artisan again resumed:
"My boy, you were surely awakened to-night, as we ourselves were, by the noise of the procession. It was the procession of indulgences."
"Yes, father—and in order to render my prayers for the deliverance of the souls in purgatory more efficacious, I macerated myself."
"The monks claim that the souls in purgatory can be ransomed by money; do they not make the claim?"
"It is the doctrine of the Catholic Church, father. The Church can not err."
"Hervé, let me suppose that you find on the street a purse full of gold; would you believe yourself justified to dispose of it in behalf of the souls in purgatory, without first inquiring after the rightful owner of the purse?"
"I would not hesitate a minute to do what you said. I would take it to the Church."
Christian and Bridget exchanged looks of distress at this answer. Their suspicions were almost confirmed. They now counted at least with Hervé's frankness. Convinced that all means were legitimate in order to compass the salvation of souls in pain, he would assuredly admit the theft. The artisan proceeded:
"My son, we never set you the example of duplicity. Particularly at this moment when we must appeal to your frankness, we shall speak without circumlocution. I have this to say to you: The fruits of your mother's laborious savings and my own have been recently purloined; the sum amounted to twenty gold crowns."
Hervé remained impassable and silent.