rd him too. He had
seen nothing, he knew nothing. Inquire of M. le Cure, if you have doubts
of me.'

'I do not doubt you, Martin,' said my mother, with severity, 'when you
are not biassed by prejudice. And, as for M. le Cure, it is well known
that the clergy are often jealous of the good Sisters, when they are not
under their own control.'

Such was the injustice with which we were treated. And next day nothing
was talked of but the revelation of Pierre Plastron. What he had seen
and what he had heard was wonderful. All the saints had come and talked
with him, and told him what he was to say to his townsmen. They told him
exactly how everything had happened: how St. Jean himself had interfered
on behalf of the Sisters, and how, if we were not more attentive to the
duties of religion, certain among us would be bound hand and foot and
cast into the jaws of hell. That I was one, nay the chief, of these
denounced persons, no one could have any doubt. This exasperated me; and
as soon as I knew that this folly had been printed and was in every
house, I hastened to M. le Cure, and entreated him in his next Sunday's
sermon to tell the true story of Pierre Plastron, and reveal the
imposture. But M. le Cure shook his head. 'It will do no good,' he said.

'But how no good?' said I. 'What good are we looking for? These are
lies, nothing but lies. Either he has deceived the poor ladies basely,
or they themselves--but this is what I cannot believe.'

'Dear friend,' he said, 'compose thyself. Have you never discovered yet
how strong is self-delusion? There will be no lying of which they are
aware. Figure to yourself what a stimulus to the imagination to know
that he was here, actually here. Even I--it suggests a hundred things to
me. The Sisters will have said to him (meaning no evil, nay meaning the
edification of the people), "But, Pierre, reflect! You must have seen
this and that. Recall thy recollections a little." And by degrees Pierre
will have found out that he remembered--more than could have been
hoped.'

'_Mon Dieu_!' I cried, out of patience, 'and you know all this, yet you
will not tell them the truth--the very truth.'

'To what good?' he said. Perhaps M. le Cure was right: but, for my part,
had I stood up in that pulpit, I should have contradicted their lies and
given no quarter. This, indeed, was what I did both in my private and
public capacity; but the people, though they loved me, did not believe
me. They said,