'My son,' she said, looking upon me with reproving eyes, 'what have the
good Sisters done to thee? Why is it that you look so unfavourably upon
everything that comes from the community of St. Jean?'

'What have I to do with the community?' I cried--'when I tell thee,
Maman, that this Pierre Plastron knows nothing! I heard it from the
fellow's own lips, and M. le Curé was present and heard him too. He had
seen nothing, he knew nothing. Inquire of M. le Curé, 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 Curé, 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 Curé, and entreated him in his next Sunday's
sermon to tell the true story of Pierre Plastron, and reveal the
imposture. But M. le Curé shook his head. 'It will do no good,' he said.

'But how no good?' said I. 'What good are we looking for? These are