said the monk, who, sitting on the foot of the bed, began to be interested in a story so strangely introduced.

“Ah!” cried the dying man, with all the effusiveness of a grief declared after long suppression, “ah!

I have sought to stifle remorse by twenty years of good deeds; I have assuaged the natural ferocity of those who shed blood; on every occasion I have exposed my life to save those who were in danger, and I have preserved lives in exchange for that I took away. That is not all; the money gained in the exercise of my profession I have distributed to the poor; I have been assiduous in attending church and those who formerly fled from me have become accustomed to seeing me. All have forgiven me, some have even loved me; but I think that God has not pardoned me, for