tumn; the hull creaked, it seemed
ready to go to pieces. Fearful shrieks went up, followed by an awful
silence.

There was a strange difference between the behavior of the folk in the
bows and that of the rich or great people at the other end of the boat.
The young mother clasped her infant tightly to her breast every time
that a great wave threatened to engulf the fragile vessel; but she clung
to the hope that the stranger's words had set in her heart. Each time
that the eyes turned to his face she drew fresh faith at the sight, the
strong faith of a helpless woman, a mother's faith. She lived by that
divine promise, the loving words from his lips; the simple creature
waited trustingly for them to be fulfilled, and scarcely feared the
danger any longer.

The soldier, holding fast to the vessel's side, never took his eyes off
the strange visitor. He copied on his own rough and swarthy features the
imperturbability of the other's face, applying to this task the whole
strength of a will and intelligence but little corrupted in the course
of a life of mechanical and passive obedience. So emulous was he of a
calm and tranquil courage greater than his own, that at last, perhaps
unconsciously, something of that mysterious nature passed into his
own soul. His admiration became an instinctive zeal for this man, a
boundless love for and belief in him, such a love as soldiers feel for
their leader when he has the power of swaying other men, when the halo
of victories surrounds him, and the magical fascination of genius is
felt in all that he does. The poor outcast was murmuring to herself:

"Ah! miserable wretch that I am! Have I not suffered enough to expiate
the sins of my youth? Ah! wretched woman, why did you leave the gay life
of a frivolous Frenchwoman? why did you devour the goods of God with
churchmen, the substance of the poor with extortioners and fleecers of
the poor? Oh! I have sinned indeed!--Oh my God! my God! let me finish my
time in hell here in this world of misery."

And again she cried, "Holy Virgin, Mother of God, have pity upon me!"

"Be comforted, mother. God is not a Lombard usurer. I may have killed
people good and bad at random in my time, but I am not afraid of the
resurrection."

"Ah! master Lancepesade, how happy those fair ladies are, to be so near
to a bishop, a holy man! They will get absolution for their sins," said
the old woman. "Oh! if I could only hear a priest say to me, 'Thy sins
are f