After a moment’s pause, during which M. Rodin seemed to recover from his emotion, he said to Dupont:  “One part of my mission, my dear sir—­that which relates to the Green Chamber—­I have now told you; but there is yet another.  Before coming to it, however, I must remind you of a circumstance you have perhaps forgotten—­namely, that some fifteen or sixteen years ago, the Marquis d’Aigrigny, then colonel of the hussars in garrison at Abbeville, spent some time in this house.”

“Oh, sir! what a dashing officer was there!  It was only just now, that I was talking about him to my wife.  He was the life of the house!—­how well he could perform plays—­particularly the character of a scapegrace.  In the Two Edmonds, for instance, he would make you die with laughing, in that part of a drunken soldier—­and then, with what a charming voice he sang Joconde, sir—­better than they could sing it at Paris!”

Rodin, having listened complacently to the bailiff, said to him:  “You doubtless know that, after a fierce duel he had with a furious Bonapartist, one General Simon, the Marquis d’Aigrigny (whose private secretary I have now the honor to be) left the world for the church.”

“No, sir! is it possible?  That fine officer!”

“That fine officer—­brave, noble, rich, esteemed, and flattered—­abandoned all those advantages for the sorry black gown; and, notwithstanding his name, position, high connections, his reputation as a great preacher, he is still what he was fourteen years ago—­a plain abbe—­whilst so many, who have neither his merit nor his virtues, are archbishops and cardinals.”

M. Rodin expressed himself with so much goodness, with such an air of conviction, and the facts he cited appeared to be so incontestable, that M. Dupont could not help exclaiming:  “Well, sir, that is splendid conduct!”

“Splendid?  Oh, no!” said M. Rodin, with an inimitable expression of simplicity; “it is quite a matter of course when one has a heart like M. d’Aigrigny’s.  But amongst all his good qualities, he has particularly that of never forgetting worthy people—­people of integrity, honor, conscience—­and therefore, my dear M. Dupont, he has not forgotten you.”

“What, the most noble marquis deigns to remember—­”

“Three days ago, I received a letter from him, in which he mentions your name.”

“Is he then at Paris?”

“He will be there soon, if not there now.  He went to Italy about three months ago, and, during his absence, he received a very sad piece of news—­the death of his mother, who was passing the autumn on one of the estates of the Princess de Saint-Dizier.”

“Oh, indeed!  I was not aware of it.”

“Yes, it was a cruel grief to him; but we must all resign ourselves to the will of Providence!”

“And with regard to what subject did the marquis do me the honor to mention my name?”

“I am going to tell you.  First of all, you must know that this house is sold.  The bill of sale was signed the day before my departure from Paris.”