“How so?” asked Dagobert.
“Why, you know that if I caused you so much grief, it was not from wickedness. When I saw you in such despair, I suffered almost as much myself; but I durst not tell you so, for fear of breaking my oath. I had resolved to keep it, believing that I did well, believing that it was my duty. And yet something told me that it could not be my duty to cause you so much pain. ‘Alas, my God! enlighten me!’ I exclaimed in my prison, as I knelt down and prayed, in spite of the mockeries of the other women. ‘Why should a just and pious work, commanded by my confessor, the most respectable of men, overwhelm me and mine with so much misery? ‘Have mercy on me, my God, and teach me if I have done wrong without knowing it!’ As I prayed with fervor, God heard me, and inspired me with the idea of applying to Gabriel. ‘I thank Thee, Father! I will obey!’ said I within myself. ‘Gabriel is like my own child; but he is also a priest, a martyr—almost a saint. If any one in the world imitates the charity of our blessed Saviour, it is surely he. When I leave this prison, I will go and consult him and he will clear up my doubts.’”
“You are right, dear mother,” cried Agricola; “it was a thought from heaven. Gabriel is an angel of purity, courage, nobleness—the type of the true and good priest!”
“Ah, poor wife!” said Dagobert, with bitterness; “if you had never had any confessor but Gabriel!”
“I thought of it before he went on his journey,” said Frances, with simplicity. “I should have liked to confess to the dear boy—but I fancied Abbe Dubois would be offended, and that Gabriel would be too indulgent with regard to my sins.
“Your sins, poor dear mother?” said Agricola. “As if you ever committed any!”
“And what did Gabriel tell you?” asked the soldier.
“Alas, my dear! had I but had such an interview with him sooner! What I told him of Abbe Dubois roused his suspicions, and he questioned me, dear child, as to many things of which he had never spoken to me before. Then I opened to him my whole heart, and he did the same to me, and we both made sad discoveries with regard to persons whom we had always thought very respectable, and who yet had deceived each of us, unknown to the other.”
“How so?”
“Why, they used to tell him, under the seal of secrecy, things that were supposed to come from me; and they used to tell me, under the same seal of secrecy, things that were supposed to come from him. Thus, he confessed to me, that he did not feel at first any vocation for the priesthood; but they told him that I should not believe myself safe in this world or in the next, if he did not take orders, because I felt persuaded that I could best serve the Lord by giving Him so good a servant; and that yet I had never dared to ask Gabriel himself to give me this proof of his attachment, though I had taken him from the street, a deserted orphan, and brought him up as my own son, at the cost of labor and privations. Then, how could it be otherwise? The poor dear child, thinking he could please me, sacrificed himself. He entered the seminary.”