Pomfrette heard, and he drew himself together, his jaws shutting with
ferocity, and his hand flying to the belt where his voyageur's case-knife
hung. The Cure did not see this. Without turning his head towards
Pomfrette, he said:

"I have commanded you, my children. Leave the leper alone."

Again he waved the crowd to be gone, and they scattered, whispering to
each other; for nothing like this had ever occurred in Pontiac before,
nor had they ever seen the Cure with this granite look in his face, or
heard his voice so bitterly hard.

He did not move until he had seen them all started homewards from the
Four Corners. One person remained beside him--Parpon the dwarf.

"I will not obey you, M'sieu' le Cure," said he. "I'll forgive him
before he repents."

"You will share his sin," answered the Cure sternly. "No; his
punishment, M'sieu'," said the dwarf; and turning on his heel, he trotted
to where Pomfrette stood alone in the middle of the road, a dark, morose
figure, hatred and a wild trouble in his face.

Already banishment, isolation, seemed to possess Pomfrette, to surround
him with loneliness. The very effort he made to be defiant of his fate
appeared to make him still more solitary. All at once he thrust a hand
inside his red shirt, and, giving a jerk which broke a string tied round
his neck, he drew forth a little pad--a flat bag of silk, called an Agnus
Dei, worn as a protection and a blessing by the pious, and threw it on
the ground. Another little parcel he drew from his belt, and ground it