However, neither I nor Father Lawrence could yet be quite certain that his two latest acquisitions (who were to find themselves diverted from their intended journeying to Algiers to discover that in being reunited with their abducted brother, Jean, they would have to go by way of St. Thaddeus and many a bedding) were actually untouched maidens. And after I had concluded all this, I further amused myself by conjecturing just how long it would take the good Father to determine their state of purification or lack of it.
It was far sooner than I had expected.
One must remember that it was still early on the final day of Father Lawrence's sojourn in la belle France. And having observed him – as well as heard him now when I could not see him – at his diligences, I could no longer be thunderstruck at any of his lay achievements. I had yet, it was true, to hear him preach a sermon from the pulpit. On the other hand, I was well-acquainted with his homilies when the pulpit was a cot or trundle-bed occupied by a flirtatious minx.
At any rate, with a girl clinging to each arm, he made his way back down the street to the inn whose owner's daughter had already heard at least one of these intimate sermons. On the way, he soothingly quieted their timorous doubts concerning whether by striking out across the Channel they were not geographically going farther away from their kidnapped brother than if they had managed to stow away on a ship bound for Gibraltar. “My daughters,” he assured them, “what I said to that villainous fellow just now was gospel truth. We at St. Thaddeus – and I say 'we' solely because, although I am but newly assigned to that order, I have already heard the most glowing reports of their righteous works – have as our motto that what is worth achieving is worth sacrificing for.”
“Oh, mon Pere,” Louisette replied in a clear sweet voice, “my sister and I are ready to make any sacrifice whatsoever if only we may find our dear brother once more and go back with him to our little farm in Beaulieu.”
“C'est bien vrai,” Denise agreed in her provocatively husky voice, “there is nothing Louisette and I wouldn't do if only to see Jean once more.”
If I had been gifted with the powers of ventriloquism, I might have, irreverently, at this point, interjected the cynical comment that it was very likely that they would be called upon to sacrifice everything they had, once inside the walls of St. Thaddeus, then it would be required of them to have the patience and fortitude of veritable young saints if they expected that through graciously obliging fucking they would see the face of their lost brother. Quite conversely, they were most likely to see the faces of a dozen or more lubricious and sturdy priests intent upon comforting their sisterly sorrow by offering the view of a turgidly veined and throbbing prick by way of proxy for the visage of their adored brother.
“Only a man of stone,” Father Lawrence observed, “could turn a deaf ear to such fervent applications. But here we are at this modest little inn which my ward and I occupy till this evening. Our good host, I feel certain, will provide a separate room so that you two may be together. Of course I will go with you to make certain that you are properly and hospitably installed, and then I wish to hear your confessions, as I have already mentioned.”
“Oh, mon Pere,” Denise murmured, “I can swear that Louisette and I have been very good girls since we left Beaulieu to come in search of poor Jean.”
“We shall see, my daughter. Goodness is not only a state of the flesh, but a state of mind which surmounts the weak, frail body which houses our spirit. Besides, if what I suspect is true, you are both yet too innocent and too young to know what sin truly is, which makes it all the more imperious that I should warn you of its dangers, my daughters.”
The landlord now appeared, obsequious as ever, and Father Lawrence directly requisitioned a room for his two new protegees, saying in a lordly manner, “You will add this to my reckoning, my good host. And in about an hour, have your charming daughter bring these forsaken waifs a bowl of nourishing soup, some crusty bread and good cheese to fortify them for the journey across the Channel.”
“It shall be done exactly as you wish it, your Grace,” the landlord exclaimed. I heard him stride to the back of the room, and call out in a loud voice the name of his baggage of a daughter. But I did not have the chance to hear the conversation that ensued between them, since Father Lawrence was already urging Denise and Louisette up the stairs to their new quarters. “Later, after you have made your confession and then partaken of nourishment and enjoyed a refreshing little nap, my little daughters,” he told them, “I shall introduce you to my young ward Marisia who, like yourselves, first saw the light of day in this beautiful land of the fleur-de-lis. The three of you will, I pray, become inseparable companions and thus give each other joy and at the same time, for the two of you, Denise and Louisette, the humility and docility which it will be required of you to demonstrate before you can expect to see your brother Jean freed by the rapacious Bey of Algiers. Ah, a charming large room, with a view of the harbor. It is a pity that the rain has begun to fall again and that the skies are leaden, but remember, my daughters, in the moment of greatest adversity and when all seems dark, the sun is certain to cast its warm, benevolent rays once again!”
Father Lawrence now proceeded to ask the two sisters if they had informed those dearest to them whither they were bound. “Oh, no,” Denise at once replied.
“But that was selfish, my dear child,” he rebuked her, “for your mother will grieve and think you dead, not knowing the valorous reason that made the two of you run away from home.”
“He's right, Denise,” Louisette thoughtfully interposed, and the charming Denise said somewhat sulkily, “Well, it was really your idea, and Maman was out in the fields and there was no time to tell her if we wanted to ride in the cart with Guillaume.”
“And who is this Guillaume, my child?” Father Lawrence queried.
“He is the son of the farmer next to us, mon Pere,” Denise replied. “He is only two years older than we are, but very shy. Indeed, it was Louisette who had to convince him how important it was for us to reach Calais. And besides, he was a good friend to our brother and wished him back. That was why he agreed to help us run away.”
“But if, as you say, my daughter, this Guillaume is shy in the presence of young demosielles like you, how was it that he was induced to aid you?'
I heard Louisette giggle, and then Denise interposed somewhat petulantly, “You should be ashamed of yourself, naughty one!' And after that Louisette indignantly retorted, “I did not ask you for your opinion, Denise!”
“Tut, tut, my daughters, bickering such as this is exactly how Cain and Abel made history. I think, moreover, it is time for our little confession. And since you are the older by chronology, Louisette, I shall begin with you. Denise, if you will go down the hall two doors and then knock three times at the third door, you will meet my ward, Marisia. Tell her that you are going with her to St. Thaddeus and that it was my wish for the two of you to become acquainted. When it is time for your confession, my daughter, I will send your sister after you.”
“Oui, mon Pere.”
I then heard the door open and close and knew that Father Lawrence was alone with Louisette.
“And now, my child,” he said in a kindly tone, “you are to tell me all there is to know about this Guillaume. Do you-not see, my daughter, that in many a court of law, he would be accused as your willing accomplice if what you have done was against the tenets of propriety.”
“I only told him, mon Pere, that Denise and I had to find Jean and that we were going on a journey. Besides, I asked him to wait until nightfall and then tell Maman why we had done what we had done.”