e churches to fast
three days in order to help assure the repose of the Marshal's soul."

"Pretty far, as you see, from American lynch law," said Des Hermies.

"Then," resumed Durtal, "at eleven they went to the prison to get Gilles
de Rais and accompanied him to the prairie of Las Biesse, where tall
stakes stood, surmounted by gibbets.

"The Marshal supported his accomplices, embraced them, adjured them to
have 'great displeasure and contrition of their ill deeds' and, beating
his breast, he supplicated the Virgin to spare them, while the clergy,
the peasants, and the people joined in the psalmody, intoning the
sinister and imploring strophes of the chant for the departed:

"'Nos timemus diem judicii
Quia mali et nobis conscii.
Sed tu, Mater summi concilii,
Para nobis locum refugii,
O Maria.

"'Tunc iratus Judex--'"

"Hurrah for Boulanger!"

The noise as of a stormy sea mounted from the Place Saint Sulpice, and a
hubbub of cries floated up to the tower room. "Boulange--Lange--" Then
an enormous, raucous voice, the voice of an oyster woman, a push-cart
peddler, rose, dominating all others, howling, "Hurrah for Boulanger!"

"The people are cheering the election returns in front of the city
hall," said Carhaix disdainfully.

They looked at each other.

"The people of today!" exclaimed Des Hermies.

"Ah," grumbled Gevingey, "they wouldn't acclaim a sage, an artist, that
way, even--if such were conceivable now--a saint."

"And they did in the Middle Ages."

"Well, they were more naif and not so stupid then," said Des Hermies.
"And as Gevingey says, where now are the saints who directed them? You
cannot too often repeat it, the spiritual councillors of today have
tainted hearts, dysenteric souls, and slovenly minds. Or they are worse.
They corrupt their flock. They are of the Docre order and Satanize."

"To think that a century of positivism and atheism has been able to
overthrow everything but Satanism, and it cannot make Satanism yield an
inch."

"Easily explained!" cried Carhaix. "Satan is forgotten by the great
majority. Now it was Father Ravignan, I believe, who proved that the
wiliest thing the Devil can do is to get people to deny his existence."

"Oh, God!" murmured Durtal forlornly, "what whirlwinds of ordure I see
on the horizon!"

"No," said Carhaix, "don't say that. On earth all is dead and
decomposed. But in heaven! Ah, I admit that the Paraclete is keeping us