"But in the confessional, Father," I said. "Probably there you have heard a story similar to mine. Maybe the girl whom I seek has told you of her life when confessing her sins. Perhaps you may recollect hearing such a story in the confessional, Father."
"It may be, but in that case the affair rests between the penitent and God," said the old priest sadly, and a far-away look came into his kindly eyes.
"If the disclosure of a confessional secret brings happiness to one mortal at the expense of none, is it not best for a man to disclose it?" I asked.
"I act under God's orders and He knows what is best," said the old man, and there was a touch of reproof in his voice.
Sick at heart, I rose to take my leave. Moleskin, glad to escape from the house, hurried towards the door which the priest opened. As I was passing out, the old man laid a detaining hand upon my arm.
"In a situation like this, one of God's servants hardly knows what is best to do," he said in a low whisper which Moleskin, already in the street, could not hear. "Perhaps it is not contrary to God's wishes that I should go against His commands and make two of His children happy even in this world. Three months ago, your sweetheart was in this very district, in this parish, and in this chapel. Do not ask me how I have learned this," he hurried on, as I made a movement to interrupt him. "If I mistake not she was then in good health and eager to give up a certain sin, which God has long since forgiven. Be clean of heart, my child, and God will aid you in your search and you'll surely find her."
He closed the door softly behind me and once again I found myself in the street along with Moleskin.
"What was the fellow sayin' to you?" asked my mate.
"He says that he has seen her three months ago," I answered. "But goodness knows where she is now!"