here we are at this modest little inn which my ward and I occupy till this evening. Our good host, I feel certain, will provide a separate room so that you two may be together. Of course I will go with you to make certain that you are properly and hospitably installed, and then I wish to hear your confessions, as I have already mentioned.”
“Oh, mon Pere,” Denise murmured, “I can swear that Louisette and I have been very good girls since we left Beaulieu to come in search of poor Jean.”
“We shall see, my daughter. Goodness is not only a state of the flesh, but a state of mind which surmounts the weak, frail body which houses our spirit. Besides, if what I suspect is true, you are both yet too innocent and too young to know what sin truly is, which makes it all the more imperious that I should warn you of its dangers, my daughters.”
The landlord now appeared, obsequious as ever, and Father Lawrence directly requisitioned a room for his two new protegees, saying in a lordly manner, “You will add this to my reckoning, my good host. And in about an hour, have your charming daughter bring these forsaken waifs a bowl of nourishing soup, some crusty bread and good cheese to fortify them for the journey across the Channel.”
“It shall be done exactly as you wish it, your Grace,” the landlord exclaimed. I heard him stride to the back of the room, and call out in a loud voice the name of his baggage of a daughter. But I did not have the chance to hear the conversation that ensued between them, since Father Lawrence was already urging Denise and Louisette up the stairs to their new quarters. “Later, after you have made your confession and then partaken of nourishment and enjoyed a refreshing little nap, my little daughters,” he told them, “I shall introduce you to my young ward Marisia who, like yourselves, first saw the light of day in this beautiful land of the fleur-de-lis. The three of you will, I pray, become inseparable companions and thus give each other joy and at the same time, for the two of you, Denise and Louisette, the humility and docility which it will be required of you to demonstrate before you can expect to see your brother Jean freed by the rapacious Bey of Algiers. Ah, a charming large room, with a view of the harbor. It is a pity that the rain has begun to fall again and that the skies are leaden, but remember, my daughters, in the moment of greatest adversity and when all seems dark, the sun is certain to cast its warm, benevolent rays once again!”
Father Lawrence now proceeded to ask the two sisters if they had informed those dearest to them whither they were bound. “Oh, no,” Denise at once replied.
“But that was selfish, my dear child,” he rebuked her, “for your mother will grieve and think you dead, not knowing the valorous reason that made the two of you run away from home.”
“He's right, Denise,” Louisette thoughtfully interposed, and the charming Denise said somewhat sulkily, “Well, it was really your idea, and Maman was out in the fields and there was no time to tell her if we wanted to ride in the cart with Guillaume.”
“And who is this Guillaume, my child?” Father Lawrence queried.
“He is the son of the farmer next to us, mon Pere,” Denise replied. “He is only two years older than we are, but very shy. Indeed, it was Louisette who had to convince him how important it was for us to reach Calais. And besides, he was a good friend to our brother and wished him back. That was why he agreed to help us run away.”
“But if, as you say, my daughter, this Guillaume is shy in the presence of young demosielles like you, how was it that he was induced to aid you?'
I heard Louisette giggle, and then Denise interposed somewhat petulantly, “You should be ashamed of yourself, naughty one!' And after that Louisette indignantly retorted, “I did not ask you for your opinion, Denise!”
“Tut, tut, my daughters, bickering such as this is exactly how Cain and Abel made history. I think, moreover, it is time for our little confession. And since you are the older by chronology, Louisette, I shall begin with you. Denise, if you will go down the hall two doors and then knock three times at the third door, you will meet my ward, Marisia. Tell her that you are going with her to St. Thaddeus and that it was my wish for the two of you to become acquainted. When it is time for your confession, my daughter, I will send your sister after you.”
“Oui, mon Pere.”
I then heard the door open and close and knew that Father Lawrence was alone with Louisette.
“And now, my child,” he said in a kindly tone, “you are to tell me all there is to know about this Guillaume. Do you-not see, my daughter, that in many a court of law, he would be accused as your willing accomplice if what you have done was against the tenets of propriety.”
“I only told him, mon Pere, that Denise and I had to find Jean and that we were going on a journey. Besides, I asked him to wait until nightfall and then tell Maman why we had done what we had done.”
“I see. That somewhat mitigates your thoughtlessness. Well, now, understanding that your mother is not in terror that you two may have come to an evil end, how was it that you managed to convince this young man that he should aid you in leaving your dear mother on such an exploit?”
“I – I told him I would let him kiss me when we got to Calais, mon Pere,” Louisette faltered.
“And did you keep that promise, my daughter?”
“Y-yes, mon Pere. Not once, but several times. But I let him, you see, because he is very handsome and yet he blushes like a girl whenever he is in the presence of one. I wanted to let him feel like a man, so I gave him more than was in the bargain.”
“Well, although that was a slight sin, it surely did not have evil as its motivation, but rather compassion. I will remember that when it comes time to give you your penance, my daughter. Go on.”
“But – but there's nothing more to tell, mon Pere. He bade us a fortunate journey and told me to bring his best wishes to Jean when we saw him. And then he drove back to Beaulieu.”
“Had you ever before that time let Guillaume kiss you, my daughter?”
What a court prosecutor the good Father Lawrence would have made had he turned his talents of rhetoric and persuasiveness to that profession! But I could see his tact. Gently and yet cunningly, like a guide who takes you by the sleeve in an unknown city and leads you where he will without your once being aware that he has his reasons for the route he takes, Father Lawrence was determining the extent of Louisette's maidenliness… or lack of it, to be sure!
“N – not really, mon Pere,” Louisette faltered.
“My child,” he said gravely, “you see me now in my black cassock and hat of Mother Church. You as penitent are come to the confessional, and it lies heavily upon your immortal soul to speak the truth, without shame – for there is shame in deception and concealment, since expiation is granted those who have sinned and yet have heart to avow it – and so you must not dissemble with me. Was that the first time you and he had kissed, my daughter?”
There was a slight pause, and then in a voice so faint I could scarcely make it out, Louisette breathed a calm, “No, mon Pere.”
“Ah, that is better, my daughter. You have already taken the first step away from perdition. So how long had you and this rascal of a Guillaume exchanged sweet busses and clippings and sighings, like two doves who play at mating though they are not yet ready for it?”
“For – for about a year, mon Pere. But it was not in sin, mon Pere, because I had hoped that he would become my betrothed. I wished to wed with him perhaps in another year. And though he is shy, mon Pere, I like this because he does not make eyes at other girls or try to pinch them the way Michel Devrier, who is fat and stupid and smells bad always from the stable, always tries to do.”
“I admire your frankness, my daughter. But had you gone farther than the chaste kiss in all this while?”
“I – I am still a maiden, mon Pere.”
“That was not what I asked you, my dear child,” Father Lawrence said reprovingly. “Remember, the confession is not yet over. The truth, my daughter!”
And at that moment, I believed he might have been the reincarnation of the famous Torquemada, that baleful familiar of the Holy Inquisition, before whose terrible powers of denunciation and persuasion no heretic dared stand. His voice had taken on a timbre of grandiloquence, and Louisette must have been properly impressed, for her next answer came in a kind of little gasp: “I swear we didn't play at husband and wife, mon Pere!”
“Then you are truly virgin?”
“Oh yes, mon Pere!”
“And if you have just now told me the truth, Louisette, it can do no harm to tell me the rest of it. What
