ns afflicted with scrofula came to him to
ask to touch the fleur-de-lys on his skin, he made no other answer than
that of shutting the door in their faces. He persistently refused to
perform any miracles--a ridiculous position for a sorcerer. No one is
bound to be a sorcerer; but when a man is one, he ought not to shirk the
duties of his position.

One or two exceptions might be found to this almost universal antipathy.
Sieur Landoys, of the Clos-Landes, was clerk and registrar of St.
Peter's Port, custodian of the documents, and keeper of the register of
births, marriages, and deaths. This Landoys was vain of his descent from
Peter Landoys, treasurer of the province of Brittany, who was hanged in
1485. One day, when Sieur Landoys was bathing in the sea, he ventured to
swim out too far, and was on the point of drowning: Gilliatt plunged
into the water, narrowly escaping drowning himself, and succeeded in
saving him. From that day Landoys never spoke an evil word of Gilliatt.
To those who expressed surprise at this change, he replied, "Why should
I detest a man who never did me any harm, and who has rendered me a
service?" The parish clerk and registrar even came at last to feel a
sort of friendship for Gilliatt. This public functionary was a man
without prejudices. He had no faith in sorcerers. He laughed at people
who went in fear of ghostly visitors. As for him, he had a boat in
which he amused himself by making fishing excursions in his leisure
hours; but he had never seen anything extraordinary, unless it was on
one occasion--a woman clothed in white, who rose about the waters in
the light of the moon--and even of this circumstance he was not quite
sure. Moutonne Gahy, the old witch of Torteval, had given him a little
bag to be worn under the cravat, as a protection against evil spirits:
he ridiculed the bag, and knew not what it contained, though, to be
sure, he carried it about him, feeling more security with this charm
hanging on his neck.

Some courageous persons, emboldened by the example of Landoys, ventured
to cite, in Gilliatt's favour, certain extenuating circumstances; a few
signs of good qualities, as his sobriety, his abstinence from spirits
and tobacco; and sometimes they went so far as to pass this elegant
eulogium upon him: "He neither smokes, drinks, chews tobacco, or takes
snuff."

Sobriety, however, can only count as a virtue when there are other
virtues to support it.

The ban of public opini