maimed without me, for I am truly His right arm. But I will not fail Him, you may swear."
"I believe you," said I. "You gave full proof of it when the Huguenots attacked your church, and you threw a great lump of plaster at their Captain Papiphage and knocked him over."
"That was a surprise for him, miscreant that he was," said he. "For me too, really. I mean no harm and hate to see blood flow; it disgusts me, but the devil alone knows what gets into a man when he is among hot-heads. He becomes a wolf."
"That is true," said I, "you lose what little sense you have when you are in a crowd. A hundred wise men make a fool, and a hundred sheep a wolf. But tell me. Vicar, how can you reconcile two codes—that of the man who lives alone with his conscience and wants peace for himself and all the world, and that of men in the mass, who make a virtue out of war and wickedness. Which of these is of God?"
"That is a very silly question! Both. Everything comes from God."
"Well, then He doesn't know His own mind. Or rather I believe He cannot do as He likes. It is easy enough to manage one man,—there is no difficulty about that, but when He has a crowd to
