i heard him. i wondered, victor, for i never thought of his committing sins. and my mother mourned for him as a good wife should not mourn for a bad husband. then what is your trouble, jacqueline? do you know why i came here to meaux? i came to get money,to earn it. i should be paid more money here than i got for any work at home, they said: that was the reason. when i had earned so much,it was a large sum, but i knew i should get it, and the priest encouraged me to think i should,he said that my hearts desire would be accomplished. and i could earn the money before winter is over, i think. but now, if throw it into the seine, when you get it, rather than pay it to the liar for selling your father out of a place he was never in! he is safe, believe me, if he was the good man you say. do not disturb yourself, jacqueline. he never harmed a soul. and we loved him that way a bad man could not be loved. as jacqueline said this, a smile more sad than joyful passed over her face, and disappeared. he rests in peace, said victor le roy. it is what i must believe. but what if there should be a mistake about it? it was all i was working for. think for yourself, jacqueline. no matter what leclerc thinks or i think. can you suppose that jesus christ requires any such thing as this of you, that you should make a slave of yourself for the expiation of your father? it is a monstrous thought. doubt not it was love that took him away so quickly. and love can care for him. long before this, doubtless, he has heard the words, come, ye blessed of my father! and what is required of you, do you ask? you shall be merciful to them that live; and trust him that he will care for those who have gone beyond your reach. is it so? do i understand you? you have been thinking to _buy_ this good _gift_ of god, eternal life for your father, when of course you could have nothing to do with it. you have been imposed upon, and robbed all this while, and this is the amount of it. well, do not speak so. if what you say is true,and i think it may be,what is past is past. but wont you see what an infernal lie has been practised on you, and all the rest of us who had any conscience or heart in us, all this while? there _is_ no purgatory; and it is nonsense to think, that, if there were, money could buy a man out of it. jesus christ is the one sole atonement for sin. and by faith in him shall a man save his soul alive. that is the only way. if i lose my soul, and am gone, the rest is between me and god. do you see it _should_ be so, and must be so, jacqueline? he was a good man, said jacqueline. she did not find it quite easy to make nothing of all this matter, which had been the main-spring of her effort since her father died. she could not in one instant drop from her calculations that on which she had heretofore based all her activity. she had labored so long, so hard, to buy the rest and peace and heavenly blessedness of the father she loved, it was hardly to be expected that at once she would choose to see that in that rest and peace and blessedness, she, as a producing power, had no part whatever. as she more than hinted, the purpose of her life seemed to be taken from her. she could not perceive that fact without some consternation; could not instantly connect it with another, which should enable her to look around her with the deliberation of a liberated spirit, choosing her new work. and in this she was acted upon by more than the fear arising from the influences of her old belief. of course she should have been, and yet she was not, able to drop instantly and forever from recollection the constant sacrifices she had made, the deprivation she had endured, with heroic persistence,the putting far away every personal indulgence whose price had a market value. her father was not the only person concerned in this work; the priest; herself. she had believed in the pastor of domrémy. yet he had deceived her. else he was self-deceived; and what if the blind should strive to lead the blind? _could_ she accept the new faith, the great freedom, with perfect rejoicing? victor le roy seemed to have some suspicion of what was passing in her thoughts. he did not need to watch her changeful face in order to understand them. i advise you to still think of this, said he. recall your fathers life, and then ask yourself if it is likely that he who is love requires the sacrifice of your youth and your strength before your father shall receive from him what he has promised to give to all who trust in him. take god at his word, and you will be obliged to give up all this priest-trash. iv. victor le roy spoke these words quietly, as if aware that he might safely leave them, as well as any other true words, to the just sense of jacqueline. she was none the happier for them when she returned that night to the little city room, the poor lodging whose high window overlooked both town and country, city streets and harvest-fields, and the river flowing on beyond the borders of the town,no happier through many a moment of thinking, until, as it were by an instant illumination, she began to see the truth of the matter, as some might wonder she did not instantly perceive it, if they could omit from observation this leading fact, that the orphan girl was jacqueline gabrie, child of the church, and not a wise and generous person, who had never been in bondage to superstitions. for a long time after her return to her lodging she was alone