ey, with
solemnity.

"_Mon Dieu!_" said Juliette again. "Come to dinner, the chicken it
grows cold," but to herself she added, "He is an odd bird, this English
_hibou_, but attractive--when he is not so grave."

Meanwhile Godfrey continued to ponder his mighty problem. When he had
mastered enough French in which Madame and Juliette proved efficient
instructors, he propounded it to the old Pasteur, who clapped his hand
upon a Bible, and said:

"_There_ is the answer, young friend."

"I know," replied Godfrey, "but it does not quite satisfy; I feel that
I must find that answer for myself."

Monsieur Boiset removed his blue spectacles and looked at him.

"Such searches are dangerous," he said. "Believe me, Godfrey, it is
better to accept."

"Then why do you find fault with the Roman Catholics, Monsieur?"

The question was like a match applied to a haystack. At once the
Pasteur took fire:

"Because they accept error, not truth," he began. "What foundation have
they for much of their belief? It is not here," and again he slapped
the Bible.

Then followed a long tirade, for the one thing this good and tolerant
old man could not endure was the Roman Catholic branch of the Christian
Faith.

Godfrey listened with patience, till at last the Pasteur, having burnt
himself out, asked him if he were not convinced.

"I do not know," he replied. "These quarrels of the Churches and of the
different faiths puzzle and tire me. I, too, Monsieur, believe in God
and a future life, but I do not think it matters much by what road one
travels to them, I mean so long as it is a road."

The Pasteur looked at him alarmed, and exclaimed:

"Surely you will not be a fish caught in the net which already I have
observed that cunning and plausible cure trying to throw about you! Oh!
what then should I answer to your father?"

"Do not be frightened, Monsieur. I shall never become a Roman Catholic.
But all the same I think the Roman Catholics very good people, and that
their faith is as well as another, at any rate for those who believe
it."

Then he made an excuse to slip away, leaving the Pasteur puzzled.

"He is wrong," he said to himself, "most wrong, but all the same, let
it be admitted that the boy has a big mind, and intelligent--yes,
intelligent."

It is certain that those who search with sufficient earnestness end in
finding something, though the discovered path may run in the wrong
direction, or prove impassable, or wind