own, he began again gravely:

"Remember, my son, that it is not enough to have taken no active part
in the great crime; that fact does not absolve you. The men who might
have defended the King and left their swords in their scabbards, will
have a very heavy account to render to the King of Heaven--Ah! yes,"
he added, with an eloquent shake of the head, "heavy indeed!--for by
doing nothing they became accomplices in the awful wickedness----"

"But do you think that an indirect participation will be punished?"
the stranger asked with a bewildered look. "There is the private
soldier commanded to fall into line--is he actually responsible?"

The priest hesitated. The stranger was glad; he had put the Royalist
precisian in a dilemma, between the dogma of passive obedience on the
one hand (for the upholders of the Monarchy maintained that obedience
was the first principle of military law), and the equally important
dogma which turns respect for the person of a King into a matter of
religion. In the priest's indecision he was eager to see a favorable
solution of the doubts which seemed to torment him. To prevent too
prolonged reflection on the part of the reverend Jansenist, he added:

"I should blush to offer remuneration of any kind for the funeral
service which you have just performed for the repose of the King's
soul and the relief of my conscience. The only possible return for
something of inestimable value is an offering likewise beyond price.
Will you deign, monsieur, to take my gift of a holy relic? A day will
perhaps come when you will understand its value."

As he spoke the stranger held out a box; it was very small and