“And why, sir, to him rather than to the other?”

“Why?—­because, if you and Madame Dupont succeed in persuading Madame de la Sainte-Colombe to make the choice I wish, you will be certain to keep your place as bailiff.  I give you my word of it, and what I promise I perform.”

“I do not doubt, sir, that you have this power,” said Dupont, convinced by Rodin’s manner, and the authority of his words; “but I should like to know—­”

“One word more,” said Rodin, interrupting him; “I will deal openly with you, and tell you why I insist on the preference which I beg you to support.  I should be grieved if you saw in all this the shadow of an intrigue.  It is only for the purpose of doing a good action.  The curate of Roiville, for whom I ask your influence, is a man for whom M. d’Aigrigny feels a deep interest.  Though very poor, he has to support an aged mother.  Now, if he had the spiritual care of Madame de la Sainte Colombe, he would do more good than any one else, because he is full of zeal and patience; and then it is clear he would reap some little advantages, by which his old mother might profit—­there you see is the secret of this mighty scheme.  When I knew that this lady was disposed to buy an estate in the neighborhood of our friend’s parish, I wrote about it to the marquis; and he, remembering you, desired me to ask you to render him this small service, which, as you see, will not remain without a recompense.  For I tell you once more, and I will prove it, that I have the power to keep you in your place as bailiff.”

“Well, sir,” replied Dupont, after a moment’s reflection, “you are so frank and obliging, that I will imitate your sincerity.  In the same degree that the curate of Danicourt is respected and loved in this country, the curate of Roiville, whom you wish me to prefer to him, is dreaded for his intolerance—­and, moreover—­”

“Well, and what more?”

“Why, then, they say—­”

“Come, what do they say?”

“They say—­he is a Jesuit.”

Upon these words, M. Rodin burst into so hearty a laugh that the bailiff was quite struck dumb with amazement—­for the countenance of M. Rodin took a singular expression when he laughed.  “A Jesuit!” he repeated, with redoubled hilarity; “a Jesuit!—­Now really, my dear M. Dupont, for a man of sense, experience, and intelligence, how can you believe such idle stories?—­A Jesuit—­are there such people as Jesuits?—­in our time, above all, can you believe such romance of the Jacobins, hobgoblins of the old freedom lovers?—­Come, come; I wager, you have read about them in the Constitutionnel!”

“And yet, sir, they say—­”

“Good heavens! what will they not say?—­But wise men, prudent men like you, do not meddle with what is said—­they manage their own little matters, without doing injury to any one, and they never sacrifice, for the sake of nonsense, a good place, which secures them a comfortable provision for the rest of their days.  I tell you frankly, however much I may regret it, that should you not succeed in getting the preference for my man, you will not remain bailiff here.