"Francois, my son," said he, "we have erred.

'All we like sheep have gone astray; we have followed each after his own way, but God hath laid on Him'-- he looked towards the statue--'the iniquity of us all.'" Francois stood still a moment gazing at the Cure, doggedly, bitterly; then he turned and looked scornfully at the crowd, now risen to their feet again.

Among them was a girl crying as if her heart would break.

It was Jeanne Marchand.

He regarded her coldly.
"You were so ready to suspect," he said.
Then he turned once more to the Cure.