FATHER BENEDICT--His blood is on your hands.
OSWALD--(_Frantically._) You murdered him!
You had no cause to kill him.
FATHER BENEDICT-- _I!_. Hear that.
OSWALD--The boy had done no harm. The night I fell
'Twas he who--
LOUIS--(_Seizing him._) Will you hush?
ABBOT--(_White with fear._) Oswald, retire.
Your fever--you're excited. (_Rising._) Benedict,
Don't press this matter further--now.
FATHER BENEDICT--(_Bewildered._) The _boy_!