me, I could not hold my peace.  I would speak to that man, if he killed me for it.  Looking him full in the face (which, by the way, I knew was considered by him a great crime), I asked, “Do you ever expect to die?” I did not, of course, expect an answer, but he replied, with a smile, “Yes; but you will die first” He then asked how long I had fasted, and I replied, “Three days.”  He said, “You will fast four days more, and you will be punished every day until next December, when you will take the black veil.”  As he was leaving the room, he remarked, “We do not usually have the nuns take the black veil until they are twenty-one; but you have such good luck in getting away, we mean to put you where you can’t do it.”  And with this consoling thought he left me—­left me in darkness and despair, to combat, as best I could, the horrors of starvation.  This was in the early part of winter, and only about a year would transpire before I entered that retreat from which none ever returned.  And then to be punished every day for a year!  What a prospect!  The priest came every morning, with his dark lantern, to look at me; but he never spoke.  On the second day after my return, I told him if he would bring me a little piece of bread, I would never attempt to run away again, but would serve him faithfully the rest of my life.  Had he given it to me, I would have faithfully kept my word; but he did not notice me, and closing the door, he left me once more to pass through all the agonies of starvation.  I remember nothing after that day.  Whether I remained in the cell the other two days, or was taken out before the time expired, I do not know.  This much, however, I do know, as a general rule a nun’s punishment is never remitted.  If she lives, it is well; if she dies, no matter; there are enough more, and no one will ever call them to an account for the murder.

But methinks I hear the reader ask, “Did they not fear the judgment of God and a future retribution?” In reply I can only state what I believe to be the fact.  It is my firm belief that not more than one priest in ten thousand really believes in the truth of Christianity, or even in the existence of a God.  They are all Infidels or Atheists; and how can they be otherwise?  It is the legitimate fruit of that system of deceit which they call religion.  Of course I only give this as my opinion, founded on what I have seen and heard.  You can take it, reader, for what it is worth; believe it or not, just us you please; but I assure you I have often heard the nuns say that they did not believe in any religion.  The professions of holiness of heart and parity of life so often made by the priests they know to be nothing but a hypocritical pretence, and their ceremonies they regard as a ridiculous farce.