"It is just what I expected from the implacable vengeance of the Bishop of Montreal. He will never give you the reasons of your interdict, for he knows well you are innocent, and he will never confront you with your accusers; for it would be too easy for you to confound them."

"But is not this against all the laws of God and man? Is it ot against the laws of the church?" I replied.

"Of course it is," he answered; "but do you not know that, in this continent of America, the bishops have, long ago, thrown overboard all the laws of God and man, and all the laws of the church, to rule and enslave the priests?"

I replied: "If it be so, are not Protestants correct when they say that our church has rejected the Word of God, to follow the traditions of man? What can we answer them when they tell us that our church has no light to be called the Church of God? Would the Son of God have given up his life on the Toss to save men, that they might be the property of a few lawess tyrants, who should have the right to take away their honor and life?"

"I am not ready to answer those puzzling questions," he answered, "but this is the fact. Though it is absolutely against all the laws of the church to condemn a priest without showing him his guilt, and confronting him with his accusers, our modern bishops, every week, condemn some of their priests without specifying any fact, or even giving them the names of their

accusers."

"Mind what I tell you," I replied. "I will not allow the bishop to deal with me in that way. If he dares to trample the laws of the gospel under his feet to accomplish my ruin, and satisfy his vengeance, I will teach him a lesson that he will never forget. Thanks be to God, it is not the gory cross of the bloody Inquisition, but the emblem of the British Lion which I see there floating on the tower, to protect our honor and life in Canada. I am innocent; God knows it. My trust is in Him; He will not forsake me. I will go immediately to the bishop. If he never knew what power there is in an honest priest, he will learn it to-day.”

Two hours later, I was knocking at the bishop's door. He received me with icy politeness.

"My lord," I said, "you already know why I am in your presence. Here is a letter from you, accusing me of a crime which is not specified, under the testimony of accusers whom you refuse to name! And before hearing me, and confronting me with my accusers, you punish me as guilty! You not only take away my honor, with that unjust sentence, but my life! I come in the name of God, and of His Son, Jesus Christ, to respectfully ask you to tell me the crime of which I am accused, that I may show you my innocence. I want to be confronted with my accusers, that 1 may confound them."

The bishop was, at first, evidently embarrassed by my presence; his lips were pale and trembling, but his eyes were dry and red, like the tiger's eyes in the presence of his prey. He

answered:

"I cannot grant your request, sir."

Opening, then, my New Testament, I read:

"Receive no accusation against a priest, except under two or three witnesses " (1st Tim. v: 19). I added: "It was after I had heard this voice of God, and of His holy church, that I consented to be a priest. I hope it is not the intention of your lordship to put aside this Word of God and of His church. It is not your intention to break that solemn covenant made by Christ, with His priests, and sealed with His blood?"

With an air of contempt and tyrannical authority, which I had never suspected to be possible in a bishop, he answered:

"I have no lesson of Scripture or canonical law to receive from you, sir, and no answer to give to your impertinent questions. You are interdicted! I have nothing to do with you."

These words, uttered by the man whom I was accustomed to consider as my superior, had a strange effect upon me. I felt as if awakening from a long and painful dream.

For the first time, I understood the sad prophecies of the Rev. Mr. Brassard, and I realized the horror of my position. My ruin was accomplished. Though I knew that that high dignitary was a monster of hypocrisy, injustice and tyranny, he had, among

the masses, the reputation of a saint. His unjust sentence would be considered as just and equitable by the multitude over whom he was reigning supremely. At a nod of his head, the people would fall at his feet and obey his commands to crush me. All ears would be shut, and all hearts hardened against me. In that fatal hour, for the first time in my life, my moral strength and courage failed me. I felt as if I had just fallen into a bottomless abyss, out of which it was impossible to escape. What would my innocence, known only to God, avail me, when the whole world would believe me guilty? No words can give an idea of the mental torture of that horrible hour.

For more than a quarter of an hour not a word was exchanged between the bishop and me. He seemed very busy writing letters, while I was resting my head between my hands, and shed ding torrents of tears. At last, I fell on my knees, took the hands of the bishop in mine, and, with a voice half choked with sighs, I said: "My lord, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, and in the presence of God, I swear that I have done nothing which could bring such a sentence against me. I again implore your lordship to confront me with my accusers, that I may show you my innocence."

With a savage insolence, the bishop withdrew his hands, as if I had contaminated them, and said, after rising from his chair: "You are guilty; go out of my presence."

A thousand times since, I have thanked my God that I had no dagger with me, for I would have plunged it into his heart. But, strange to say, the diabolical malice and dishonesty of that depraved man, suddenly brought back my former self-respect and courage. I at once took the stern resolution to face the storm. I felt, in my soul, that giant strength which, often, God Himself implants in the breast of the oppressed when he is in the presence of his merciless tyrants. It seemed that a flash of lightning had passed through my soul, after having written in letters of fire on the walls of the palace: "Mystery of iniquity."

Relying entirely on the God of truth and justice, who knew my innocence and the great perversity of my oppressor, I left the room, without saying a word, and hastened back to Longueuil,

to acquaint the Rev. Mr. Brassard with my firm resolution to fight the bishop to the end. He burst into tears when I told him what had occurred in the bishop's palace.

"Though innocent, you are condemned," he said. "The infallible proof of your innocence, is the cruel refusal of allowing you to be confronted with your accusers. Were you guilty, they would be too glad to show it, by confounding you before those witnesses. But the perversity of your accusers is so well known that they are ashamed of giving their names. The bishop prefers to crush you under the weight of his unmerited reputation for justice and holiness; for very few know him as we do. My fear is that he will succeed in destroying you. Though innocent, you are condemned and lost. You will never be able to contend against such a mighty adversary."

"My dear Mr. Brassard, you are mistaken," I replied. "I never was so sure of coming out victorious from a conflict as today. The monstrous iniquity of the bishop carries its antidote with itself. It was not a dream I saw when he so ignominiously turned me out of his room. A flash of lightning passed before my eyes and wrote, as if on the walls of the palace, Mystery of iniquity!' When Canada, the whole of Christendom, shall know the infamous conduct of that dignitary; when they shall see the mystery of iniquity,' which I shall stamp upon his forehead, there will be only one cry of indignation against him! Oh! if I can only find out the names of my accusers! How I will force that mighty tyrant to withraw that sentence, at double quick

"I am determined to show, not only to Canada, but to the whole world, that this infamous plot is but the work of the vile male and female slaves by whom the bishop is surrounded.

"My first thought was to start immediately for Chicago where Bishop Vandeveld expected me.

"But I am resolved not to go until I have forced my merciless oppressor to withdraw his unjust sentence. I will, immediately, go to the Jesuit College, where I propose spending the next eight days in prayer and retreat.

"The Jesuits are the ablest men under heaven to detect the

most hidden things. I hope they will help me to unearth that dark mystery of iniquity, and expose it to the world."

"I am glad to see that you do not fear the terrible storm which is upon you, and that your sails are so well trimmed," answered Mr. Brassard. "You do well in putting your trust in God, first, and in the Jesuits afterwards. The fearless way in which you intend to meet the attacks of your merciless enemies, will give you an easy victory. My hope is that the Jesuits will help you to find out the names of your false accusers, and that you will make use of them to hurl back in the face of the bishop the shame and dishonor he had prepared for you."

At six p. m., in a modest, well-lighted and ventilated room of the Jesuit College, I was alone with the venerable Mr. Schneider, its director.

I told him how the Bishop of Montreal, four years before, after giving up his prejudices against me, when I had left the oblate, had earnestly supported me in my labors. I acquainted him also with the sudden change of those good feelings into the most uncontrollable hatred, from the day I had refused to force Mrs. Chenier to become a nun, that he might secure her fortune. I told him also how those bad feelings had found new food in my plan of consecrating the rest of my life to direct the tide of the French Catholic emigration towards the Mississippi valley. I exposed to him my suspicions about that miserable girl I had turned out from my confessional. "I have a double object in view," I added:

"The first, is to spend the last eight days of my residence in Canada in prayer. But my second is, to ask the help of your charity, wisdom and experience in forcing the bishop to withdraw his unjust sentence against me. I am determined, if he does not withdraw it, to denounce him before the whole country, and to challenge him, publicly, to confront me with my accusers."

"If you do that," answered Mr. Schneider, "I fear lest you not only do an irreparable damage to the Bishop of Montreal, but to our holy church also."

I replied: "Our holy church would indeed suffer an irreparable