by the side of M. le Curé, who was standing among the rest, saying
nothing, and with the air of one as much bewildered as any of us. He
gave me one quick look from under his eyebrows to see who it was that
approached him, as was his way, and made room for me, but said nothing.
I was in too much emotion myself to keep silence--indeed, I was in that
condition of wonder, alarm, and nervous excitement, that I had to speak
or die; and there seemed an escape from something too terrible for flesh
and blood to contemplate in the idea that there was trickery here. 'M.
le Curé,' I said, 'this is a strange ornament that you have placed on
the front of your church. You are standing here to enjoy the effect. Now
that you have seen how successful it has been, will not you tell me in
confidence how it is done?'

I am conscious that there was a sneer in my voice, but I was too much
excited to think of politeness. He gave me another of his rapid, keen
looks.

'M. le Maire,' he said, 'you are injurious to a man who is as little
fond of tricks as yourself.'

His tone, his glance, gave me a certain sense of shame, but I could not
stop myself. 'One knows,' I said, 'that there are many things which an
ecclesiastic may do without harm, which are not permitted to an ordinary
layman--one who is an honest man, and no more.'

M. le Curé made no reply. He gave me another of his quick glances, with
an impatient turn of his head. Why should I have suspected him? for no
harm was known of him. He was the Curé, that was all; and perhaps we men
of the world have our prejudices too. Afterwards, however, as we waited
for M. de Clairon--for the crisis was too exciting for personal