Part 12 (1/2)
”What do you want, my child?”
”Dear parents, grant me a few words with you.”
”Gladly,” responded Christian, ”but let us go downstairs. Our poor friend Mary La Catelle is sharing your sister's bed; the woman needs rest; our conversation might disturb her sleep.”
CHAPTER IX.
THE PENITENT.
Father, mother and son proceeded downstairs to the room on the ground floor where the distressing scene of the night before was enacted.
Hardly had they touched the lowermost step of the staircase when Herve threw himself upon his knees, took his father's hands, kissed them tearfully and murmured in a smothered voice:
”I beg your pardon--for my past conduct--pardon me--my good parents!”
”G.o.d be praised! We were not deceived in the boy,” was the thought that rushed to the minds of Christian and Bridget as they exchanged a look of profound satisfaction. ”The unfortunate lad has been touched by repentance.”
”My son,” said the artisan, ”rise.”
”No, not before I have obtained from you and my mother forgiveness for my infamous act;” and he added, amid sobs: ”It was myself, I, your son--it was I who stole your gold!”
”Herve,” replied Christian, deeply moved by the manifestations of remorse which he took to be sincere, ”last night, in this same room, your mother and I said to you: 'If you forgot yourself for a moment and committed the theft, admit it--you will be forgiven.'”
”And we shall gladly keep our promise,” added Bridget. ”We pardon you, seeing that you repent. Rise.”
”Oh, never more so than at this moment am I penetrated with the unworthiness of my conduct. Good G.o.d! So much kindness on your part, and so much baseness on mine! My whole life shall be consecrated to the atonement of my infamy!” said Herve, rising from the floor.
”I shall not conceal it from you, my boy,” proceeded Christian with paternal kindness. ”I was quite prepared for this admission of your guilt. Certain happy symptoms that your mother and myself noticed to-day, led us to expect your return to the right path, to the principles of honesty in which we brought you up.”
”Did I not tell you so, yesterday?” broke in Bridget. ”Could our son really become unworthy of our tenderness, unworthy of the example that we set to him, as well as to his sister and brother? No; no; we will regain him; he will see the error of his ways. So you see, dear, dear boy,” she added embracing him effusively, ”I knew you better than you knew yourself! Blessed be G.o.d for your return to the path of righteousness!”
The consummate hypocrite threw himself upon his mother's neck, and answering her caresses with feigned affection, said in a moved voice:
”Good father, good mother, the confession of my shameful act earned your pardon for me. Later I hope your esteem for me may return, when you will have been able to judge of the sincerity of my remorse. Let me tell you the cause of my repentance, the suddenness of which may astonish you.”
”A sweet astonishment, thanks be to G.o.d. Speak, speak, my son!”
”You surmised rightly, father. Yes, led astray, corrupted by the counsel of Fra Girard, I pilfered your money for the purpose of consecrating it to works that I took to be pious.”
”Ah, it is with pride both for us and yourself that I say it,” cried Bridget; ”never once, while we suspected you, did we believe you capable of the guilty act out of love for gold, out of a craving for selfish enjoyment, or out of cupidity! No, a thousand times no!”
”Thanks! Oh, thanks, good mother, to do me at least that justice, or, rather, to do it to the bringing up that I owe you! No; the fruit of my larceny has not been dissipated in prodigality. No; I did not keep it like a miser, out of love for gold. The gold pieces were all thrown into the chest of the Apostolic Commissioner of indulgences, for the purpose of obtaining the redemption of the souls in purgatory.”
”I believe you, my son. The charitable and generous side of that idolatry, that is so profitable to the cupidity of the Church of Rome, must have had its fascination for your heart. But how did you discover the fraud of that monastic traffic? Explain that to me.”
”This morning, after I deposited my offering in the chest of indulgences that was set up in the Church of St. Dominic, I heard the Apostolic Commissioner preach. Oh, father, all the still lingering sentiments of honor within me revolted at his words. My eyes were suddenly opened; I fathomed the depth of the abyss that blind fanaticism leads to. Do you know what that monk, who claimed to speak in the name of the Almighty, dared to say to the ma.s.s of people gathered in the church? 'The virtue of my indulgences is so efficacious,' the monk cried out, 'so very efficacious, that, even if it were possible for any man to have raped the mother of our Savior, that crime without name would be remitted to him by the virtue of my indulgences. So, then, buy them, my brothers!
Bring, bring your money! Rummage in your purses, rummage'--”
Christian and his wife listened to their son's tale in silent affright.