"Should not stripes be laid upon him for each cry he hath drawn forth? Should he not lay down his life, if that were possible, for each life he hath taken?"
"I had thought, when I heard the first tale, that he should die for the single crime," the Bishop made answer, "but the case is altered by the later facts. 'A life for a life,' saith the Scripture, but naught of a life for a dozen or threescore, or an hundred, as the case may be."
Then a flame of anger shone out in the lad's face, and he waited.
"My son," said the Bishop tenderly, "thou art young and ignorant, yet will I try to teach thee something of right ways of thought. In judging, all depends upon the point of view, and matters that look often black at first statement grow white or gray when thoroughly understood. Let us look upon this question in another aspect. Dost see yonder great cathedral rising?"
Though the youth made no answer, the Bishop saw that he was looking at the gray stones and at the blue-clad workmen.
"'Tis God's house," said the Bishop, "nor may it arise save through the gifts of this man. Wrong hath he done, but all is forgiven for that his gold is bent to holy purposes."
"But wrong he doeth still," said Louis of Lamont, in the stern voice of youth.
The Bishop coughed behind his hand even while he spoke.
"There is much in the ways of Providence that we may not comprehend. God moveth in a mysterious way."
"Had the Robber Chief ceased from his crime and shown true penitence"—began the lad, but the Bishop interrupted.