"Don't come here with your twaddle.

M'sieu' hasn't stole the cross.

What does he want with a cross?
He's not a Catholic." "If he didn't steal the cross, why, he didn't," answered the saddler; "but if he did, what'll you say for yourself, Louis?
You call yourself a good Catholic--bah!--when you've got a heretic living with you." "What's that to you ?" growled the tailor, and reached out a nervous hand towards the iron.

"I served at the altar before you were born.

Sacre! I'll make your grave-clothes yet, and be a good Catholic when you're in the churchyard.