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Updated: July 15, 2025
"If your family had known the magical secrets of the plants, you would not shiver this way," he said. "It was learned in the sixteenth century that a child might be immune to heat or cold all his life if his hands were rubbed with juice of absinth before the twelfth month of his life had passed. That, you see, is a tempting prescription, less dangerous than those which Canon Docre abuses."
That time past, the ill is incurable. So when Docre announced to me that he condemned me to death by his own authority and when, two hours later, on returning home, I felt desperately ill, I lost no time packing my grip and starting for Lyons." "And there?" asked Durtal. "There I saw Dr. Johannès. I told him of Docre's threat and of my illness. He said to me simply.
And looking her straight in the eye, thinking the story of the child had softened her, he hazarded all on a cast, "Ah! if your husband would give me the information he has about Canon Docre!" She stood motionless, but her eyes clouded over. She did not answer. "True," he said, "Chantelouve, suspecting our liaison " She interrupted him.
And Durtal, terrified, saw through the fog the red horns of Docre, who, seated now, frothing with rage, was chewing up sacramental wafers, taking them out of his mouth, wiping himself with them, and distributing them to the women, who ground them underfoot, howling, or fell over each other struggling to get hold of them and violate them.
Docre is a gentleman, learned and well bred. He was even the confessor of royalty, and he would certainly have become a bishop if he had not quitted the priesthood. I have heard a great deal of evil spoken about him, but, especially in the clerical world, people are so fond of saying all sorts of things." "But you knew him personally." "Yes, I even had him for a confessor."
But Des Hermies hit the bull's-eye when he remarked, 'It is less important to know whether the modern pharmaceutic sacrileges are potent, than to study the motives of the Satanists and fallen priests who prepare them. "Ah, if there were some way of getting acquainted with Canon Docre, of insinuating oneself into his confidence, perhaps one would attain clear insight into these questions.
And I am to see it! I'll be damned if I thought there were such undercurrents in Paris. And how circumstances hang together and lead to each other! I had to occupy myself with Gilles de Rais and the diabolism of the Middle Ages to get contemporary diabolism revealed to me." And he thought of Docre again. "What a sharper that priest is!
"I am so stupid that I probably did not understand them. You spoke to me of 'family reasons, I believe." "Yes." "Rather vague." "Well, I couldn't go into detail and tell you that " He stopped, asking himself whether the time had come to break decisively with her, but he remembered that he wanted her aid in getting information about Docre. "That what? Tell me."
"Well, Docre keeps white mice in cages, and he takes them along when he travels. He feeds them on consecrated hosts and on pastes impregnated with poisons skilfully dosed. When these unhappy beasts are saturated, he takes them, holds them over a chalice, and with a very sharp instrument he pricks them here and there.
Docre is, we must admit, greatly inferior to Gilles de Rais. His works are incomplete, insipid; weak, if I may say so." "I like that. You know it isn't easy to procure children whom one may disembowel with impunity. The parents would raise a row and the police would interfere."
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