[The Refugees by Arthur Conan Doyle]@TWC D-Link book
The Refugees

CHAPTER XXIII
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They tore me open; they crucified me; they wrenched and split my bones.

I was left as a dead man, yet God has breathed the breath of life back into me that I may help in this great work of the regeneration of France." "Your sufferings, father," said Louis, resuming his seat, "give you every claim, both upon the Church and upon me, who am its special champion and protector.

What would you counsel, then, father, in the case of those Huguenots who refuse to change ?" "They would change," cried Du Chayla, with a drawn smile upon his ghastly face.

"They must bend or they must break.

What matter if they be ground to powder, if we can but build up a complete Church in the land ?" His deep-set eyes glowed with ferocity, and be shook one bony hand in savage wrath above his head.
"The cruelty with which you have been used, then, has not taught you to be more tender to others." "Tender! To heretics! No, sire, my own pains have taught me that the world and the flesh are as nothing, and that the truest charity to another is to capture his soul at all risks to his vile body.


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