He has no right even to
the capote he wears. Nobody minds him here."
"He ought to be brought to his knees and soundly converted," declared
the evangelist.
"He is on his knees half the time now," said Father Olivier
mischievously. "He's religious enough, but, like you heretics, he
perverts the truth to suit himself."
The preacher laughed. He was an unlearned man, but he had the great
heart of an apostle, and was open to jokes.
"Do you think I am riding the wilderness for the pleasure of perverting
the truth?"
"My friend," returned Father Olivier, "you have been in our sacristy,
and seen our parish records kept here by the hands of priests for a
hundred years. You want to make what you call revivals; I am content
with survivals, with keeping alive the faith. Yet you think I am the
devil. As for me, I do not say all heretics ought to be burned."
The preacher laughed again with Father Olivier, but did not fail to
add,--
"You say what I think better than I could say it myself."
The priest left his Protestant brother with a wave of the hand and a
smiling shrug, and passed on his way along the array of booths.
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