picture by Zurbaran, struck this poor girl as so hostile, little as
externals affected her, that she perceived herself to be less the
object of his solitude than the instrument he needed for some scheme.
Being unable to distinguish between the insinuating tongue of personal
interest and the unction of true charity, for we must be acutely awake
to recognize false coin when it is offered by a friend, she felt
herself, as it were, in the talons of some fierce and monstrous bird
of prey who, after hovering over her for long, had pounced down on
her; and in her terror she cried in a voice of alarm:

"I thought it was a priest's duty to console us, and you are killing
me!"

At this innocent outcry the priest started and paused; he meditated a
moment before replying. During that instant the two persons so
strangely brought together studied each other cautiously. The priest
understood the girl, though the girl could not understand the priest.

He, no doubt, put aside some plan which had threatened the unhappy
Esther, and came back to his first ideas.

"We are physicians of the soul," said he, in a mild voice, "and we
know what remedies suit their maladies."

"Much must be forgiven to the wretched," said Esther.

She fancied she had been wrong; she slipped off the bed, threw herself
at the man's feet, kissed his gown with deep humility, and looked up
at him with eyes full of tears.