—­To me.

—­And that is why you have a funereal expression?

—­Yes, uncle, for I am burying for ever my tranquillity and my happiness.

—­Is it only that?  Madame la Comtesse, I present to you the oddest and the most extraordinary man you have ever met.  Judge him yourself.  He has just carried off at the first onset what he was eagerly desiring, and there he is as cheerful as a flogged donkey.  Ah, my dear Madame, how difficult it is to benefit people in spite of themselves.

—­That is my opinion also, said the Comtesse, looking tenderly with her little eyes, still brilliant in spite of their long service, at the young priest, for whom she felt that vague unfruitful passion which old courtesans have for every young and handsome man; and she made him relate minutely all the details of the interview.

—­Bravo! bravo, she cried.  It is more than I hoped.  But do not alarm yourself at the difficulties of the task.  Monseigneur wishes to prove you.  I am acquainted with the parish.  The Radicals have no influence there.  One of them the other day took it into his head to die civilly and, in spite of the protestations of some low scoundrels, he has been buried in the early morning without drum or trumpet in the criminals’ hole.  Two primary schools are in our hands, and with a little skill we shall have the third.

—­How?

—­By taking away all the means of work from the workmen who send their children there.  It is a task, Monsieur le Cure, which is incumbent upon you.

—­And so, said Marcel bitterly, I must try to take away their bread from the fathers.

—­I suppose, said Ridoux severely, that when the interest of religion is in question, there is no reason to hesitate.  Madame la Comtesse, pardon this young priest, he comes out from his village and he is still imbued with certain prejudices.

—­Which we will root out, said the old lady smiling; that shall be the task for us women.

LXXXVIII.

THE FAIR ONE.

“Pretty to paint! as graceful as an ear of corn, slender and yet robust, never was seen a morsel of flesh so delicate, or better rounded.  Her hair, a wonderful fleece, smelt as sweet and fresh as the grass, and shone red like the sun.”

  LEON CLADEL (L’Homme de la Croix-aux-Boeufs).

It was with a great feeling of relief that, in the evening, after supper, Marcel retired to the room which, in spite of his protests, the Countess had caused to be made ready for him.

He had need to be alone.  Events had hurried on in such an astounding and rapid manner, and he had had no time to think about them.

His resolution was fully taken.  He would refuse the new core.  The odious part which he was called upon to play there, decided him.  He was about to shatter his future.  It meant a disagreement with his uncle, the hatred of this influential woman, the formidable persecution of the Bishop; but what was all that?  He saw Suzanne again, amiable, gracious, smiling, looking at him with her soft, dark eyes; Suzanne approving of his conduct and saying to him:  “You are a man of courage.  Let us go away together; cast your frock into the ditch.”