"The pa.s.sage was narrow, and he intentionally barred the way. I seized his horse's reins and turned his head, when--my lord--the Baron raised his whip and struck me on the face! My fowling-piece was in my hand--I was mad--I was furious. I know not to this moment how it was done, but I fired--fired _both_ barrels of my gun, and the next moment--_Oh, mon Dieu!_--he was lying at my feet dead and bleeding--I was a murderer!"

The priest paused in his narrative, and hid his face in his hands. A murmur ran through the court. After a few moments, however, he raised his head and continued:--

"I saw him but for an instant, and then turned and fled. I cannot remember where I went, or what I did in that terrible interval; but at last I found myself before the gates of the Chateau de Peyrelade. A dreadful terror possessed me--I feared the night, and the woods, and the mountains, and the pale moonlight. I thought to find refuge in the crowd of human beings--refuge from that terrible thought--refuge from that hideous sight. But it pursued me! They brought him in, ghastly and blood-stained, wrapt in the cloak in which he lay upon the gra.s.s; and on his pale forehead was the mark of my--of my.... That night I was mad. I remember nothing--neither how I got home--nor how I left the Chateau--nor when I entered my own door. For days I walked and lived in a dream of horror. Then I heard of the trial and condemnation of an innocent man. I mounted my horse--I flew--I feared that I should be too late; but I had resolved to kill myself on the scaffold if he was already dead! I was in time, thank G.o.d! and now I am ready to take his place. This is my confession, and, before Heaven, I declare it full and true. I entreat all here present to pray for me."

When the agitation that followed this confession had somewhat subsided, and the jury had conferred for a moment in their places, the foreman p.r.o.nounced the prisoner guilty, but recommended him to mercy. Then the judge, in a speech interrupted more than once by emotion, pa.s.sed sentence of death; but concluded by an intimation that the case should be reported to the King as one deserving his royal clemency.

The Royal Pardon, thus solicited, followed as a matter of course, and in less than a week Andre Bernard was free. The Chevalier de Fontane himself brought the precious parchment from Versailles, and fetched a carriage to convey the priest from prison.

"Come back to us, dear friend," he said. "Come back to your chapel and your flock. Forget the past, and resume the useful life in which you used to find your greatest happiness."

But the priest shook his head.

"I cannot," he said. "The King has pardoned me, but I have yet to earn the pardon of Heaven. I go hence to la Trappe, there to pa.s.s the remainder of my days in prayer and penance. Hush!--to remonstrate is useless. I deserve a far heavier punishment. I have more sins than one upon my soul. G.o.d sees my heart, and He knows all my guilt. I must go--far, far away. I shall pray for your happiness--and hers. Heaven bless you, and have mercy on me! Farewell."

THE END.