“But for me. I saw Louis Trudel raise an iron against Monsieur that day in the shop. It made me nervous—I thought he was mad. So I watched. That night I saw a light in the tailor-shop late. I thought it strange. I went over and peeped through the cracks of the shutters. I saw old Louis at the fire with the little cross, red-hot. I knew he meant trouble. I ran into the house. Old Margot was beside herself with fear—she had seen also. I ran through the hall and saw old Louis upstairs with the burning cross. I followed. He went into Monsieur’s room. When I got to the door”—she paused, trembling, for she saw Charley’s reproving eyes upon her—“I saw him with the cross—with the cross raised over Monsieur.”
“He meant to threaten me,” interposed Charley quickly.
“We will have the truth!” said the Seigneur, in a husky voice.
“The cross came down on Monsieur’s bare breast.” The grocer laughed vindictively.
“Silence!” growled the Seigneur.
“Silence!” said Filion Lacasse, and dropped his hand on the grocer’s shoulder. “I’ll baste you with a stirrup-strap.”
“The rest is well known,” quickly interposed Charley. “The poor man was mad. He thought it a pious act to mark an infidel with the cross.”
Every eye was fixed upon him. The Cure remembered Louis Trudel’s last words: “Look—look—I gave—him—the sign—of...!” Old Margot’s words also kept ringing in his ears. He turned to the Seigneur. “Monsieur,” said he, “we have heard the truth. That act of Louis Trudel was cruel and murderous. May God forgive him! I will not say that mademoiselle did well in keeping silent—”
“God bless the darlin’!” cried Mrs. Flynn.
“—but I will say that she meant to do a kind act for a man’s mortal memory—perhaps at the expense of his soul.”