"What is it you seek?" asked the door-keeper, whose face was set and
forbidding.

"To find peace," answered the man; yet he was thinking more of another's
peril than of his own soul. "What have I to do with the peace of your
soul? Yonder is your shepherd and keeper," said the doorkeeper, pointing
to where two men walked arm in arm under the trees.

"Shall the sinner not choose the keeper of his sins?" said the man
huskily.

"Who has been the keeper all these years? Who has given you peace?"

"I have had no keeper; I have had no peace these many years."

"How many years?" The Abbe's voice was low and even, and showed no
feeling, but his eyes were keenly inquiring and intent.

"Seven years."

"Is the sin that held you back from the comfort of the Church a great
one?"

"The greatest, save one."

"What would be the greatest?"

"To curse God."

"The next?"