“Yes.”

“Very good; you may further consult Albertus Magnus, Bartholomew de Glanville, and Pierre de Bressuire.  I have noted on this paper a series of such beast-books:  those of Hildebert, Philippe de Thann, Guillaume de Normandie, Gautier de Metz, and Richard de Fournival.  Only you would have to go to Paris to procure them in the public libraries.”

“And that would not help me much,” replied Durtal.  “I have, ere now, looked through many of these works, and they contain no information that can be of use from the point of view of symbolism.  They are mere fabulous descriptions of animals, legends as to their origin and habits.  The Spicilegium Solesmense and the Analectae of Dom Pitra are far more instructive.  By his help, with that of Saint Isidor, Saint Epiphanius, and Hugh of Saint Victor, we can decipher the figurative meaning of monsters.

“They are all alike; there has been no complete or serious work produced on symbolism since the Middle Ages, for the Abbe Auber’s work on the subject is a delusion.  In vain will you seek for a treatise on flowers which even alludes to the Catholic significance of plants.  I do not, of course, mean those silly books compiled for lovers, and called the Language of Flowers, which you may find on the bookstalls with old cookery-books and dream-books.  It is the same with regard to colours; nothing proven or authentic has been written concerning infernal or celestial hues; for in fact the treatise by Frederic Portal is worthless.  To explain Angelico’s work I had to hunt here and there through the Mystics, to discover where I might the meanings they ascribe to colours; and I see plainly that I must do the same for my article on the emblematical fauna.  There is, on the whole, nothing to be found in technical works; it is in the Bible and in the Liturgy, the fountain-head of symbolical lore, that I must cast my net.  By the way, Monsieur l’Abbe, had you not some remarks to communicate on the zoology of the Scriptures?”

“Yes, we will go—­”

“To dinner, if you please,” said Madame Bavoil.

The Abbe Gevresin said grace, and when they had eaten the soup the housekeeper served the beef.

It was strengthening, tender, savoury to its inmost fibre, penetrated by the rich and highly-flavoured sauce.

“You don’t get the like at La Trappe, our friend, eh?” said Madame Bavoil.

“Nor will he get anything so good at any other religious retreat,” said the Abbe Plomb.

“Do not discourage me beforehand,” said Durtal, laughing; “let me enjoy this without a pang—­there is a time for all things.”

“Then you are fully determined,” said the Abbe Gevresin, “to write a paper for your Review on allegorical beasts?”

“Yes, Monsieur l’Abbe.”

“I have made a list for you from the works of Fillion and of Lesetre of the blunders made by the translators of the Bible when they disguised real beasts under chimerical names,” said the Abbe Plomb.  “This, in a few words, is the upshot of my researches.