"Certainly. I should be a pagan if I didn't obey him! One owes obedience first to God; then to the king, who stands in the place of God; and then to the seigneur, who represents the king. But that is not the question; you have killed my brother, and I must kill you."
The old man replied,—
"In the first place, I killed your brother. I did right."
The sailor tightened his grasp on the pistol.
"Now then."
"Go on," said the old man.
And calmly added, "Where is the priest?"
The sailor looked at him. "The priest?"
"Yes, the priest. I gave your brother a priest, you owe me a priest."
"I have none," said the sailor.
And he added: "Do they have priests in mid-ocean?"
The convulsive reports of the battle were growing more and more distant.
"Those who are dying over yonder have theirs," said the old man.
"It is true," muttered the sailor. "They have the chaplain."
The old man continued: "You will be the means of losing my soul, which is a serious matter."
The sailor bowed his head in thought.
"And in losing my soul," the old man went on to say, "you lose your own. Listen. I pity you. You may do what you wish. As for me, I did my duty just now; first, in saving your brother's life, and then in taking it from him; and I am doing my duty at this moment in trying to save your soul. Consider. It concerns you. Do you hear the cannon shots at this instant? There are men dying over there; there are desperate souls in mortal agony; there are husbands there who will nevermore see their wives; there are fathers who will nevermore see their children; brothers who, like yourself, will never see their brothers again. And whose fault is it? It is the fault of your own brother. You believe in God, do you not? Well, you know that God is suffering at this very moment; God suffers in His Christian son, the king of France, who is a child like the child Jesus, and who is imprisoned in the fortress of the Temple; God suffers in
