"Young man, remember what you have promised me. Many have made the same promise, but some have died intestate, others have written my name, Marc-Boniface Grimoineau so badly that there was a chance for cavilling; and others still, who were guilty, monsieur, on my word of honor very guilty, have been acquitted, and gone off elsewhere to be hanged; so that I was really in despair when you fell in my way." "Very well, Master Cleric, very well; if I am hanged, you shall have what you want, never fear." "Oh, you will be, monsieur, you will he, don't you doubt it!" "Well, Grimoineau," said the judge. "Here I am, monsieur, here I am. So it's a bargain, Master Student?" "It's a bargain." "On your word of honor?" "On my word!" "I think that I shall get it at last," muttered the clerk as he withdrew. "I will go home and tell my wife and children the good news." He left the cell on the heels of the lieutenant criminal, who was grumbling good-humoredly at having to wait so long. XVII WHEREIN IT IS PROVED THAT TRUE FRIENDSHIP IS CAPABLE OF CARRYING DEVOTION TO THE MARRYING POINT Aubry, once more alone, was soon more deeply absorbed in thought than before; and the reader will agree that there was ample food for thought in his conversation with the lieutenant criminal. We hasten to say, however, that one who could have read his thoughts would have found that the situation of Ascanio and Colombe, depending as it did upon the letter in his possession, occupied the first place, and that before thinking of himself, a thing which he proposed to do in good time, he deliberated as to what was to be done for them. He had been meditating thus for half an hour more or less, when the door of his cell opened once more, and the turnkey appeared on the threshold. "Are you the man who sent for a priest?" he growled. "To be sure I am," said Jacques. "Deuce take me, if I know what they all want with a damned monk," muttered the turnkey; "but what I do know is that they can't leave a poor man in peace for five minutes. Come in, come in, father," he continued, standing aside to allow the priest to pass, "and be quick about it." With that he closed the door, still grumbling, and left the new comer alone with the prisoner. "Was it you who sent for me, my son?" the priest asked. "Yes, father," replied the student. "Do you wish to confess?" "No, not just that: I wish to talk with you concerning a simple case of conscience." "Say on, my son," said the priest, seating himself upon the stool, "and if any feeble light that I can give you will help you--" "It was to ask your advice that I ventured to send for you." "I am listening." "Father," said Aubry, "I am a great sinner." "Alas!" said the priest; "happy is the man who acknowledges it." "But that is not all; not only am I a great sinner myself, as I said, but I have led others into sin." "Is there any way of undoing the harm you have done?"