“So,” said Adrienne, this time without smiling, “Dr. Baleinier”

“Obeyed the Abbe d’Aigrigny, the most formidable chief of that formidable society.  He employs his genius for evil; but I must confess he is a man of genius.  Therefore, it is upon him that you and yours must fix all your doubts and suspicions; it is against him that you must be upon your guard.  For, believe me, I know him, and he does not look upon the game as lost.  You must be prepared for new attacks, doubtless of another kind, but only the more dangerous on that account—­”

“Luckily, you give us notice,” said Dagobert, “and you will be on our side.”

“I can do very little, my good friends; but that little is at the service of honest people,” said Rodin.

“Now,” said Adrienne, with a thoughtful air, completely persuaded by Rodin’s air of conviction, “I can explain the inconceivable influence that my aunt exercised in the world.  I ascribed it chiefly to her relations with persons in power; I thought that she, like the Abbe d’Aigrigny, was concerned in dark intrigues, for which religion served as a veil—­but I was far from believing what you tell me.”

“How many things you have got to learn!” resumed Rodin.  “If you knew, my dear young lady, with what art these people surround you, without your being aware of it, by agents devoted to themselves!  Every one of your steps is known to them, when they have any interest in such knowledge.  Thus, little by little, they act upon you—­slowly, cautiously, darkly.  They circumvent you by every possible means, from flattery to terror—­seduce or frighten, in order at last to rule you, without your being conscious of their authority.  Such is their object, and I must confess they pursue it with detestable ability.”

Rodin had spoken with so much sincerity, that Adrienne trembled; then, reproaching herself with these fears, she resumed:  “And yet, no—­I can never believe in so infernal a power; the might of priestly ambition belongs to another age.  Heaven be praised, it has disappeared forever!”

“Yes, certainly, it is out of sight; for they now know how to disperse and disappear, when circumstances require it.  But then are they the most dangerous; for suspicion is laid asleep, and they keep watch in the dark.  Oh! my dear young lady, if you knew their frightful ability!  In my hatred of all that is oppressive, cowardly, and hypocritical, I had studied the history of that terrible society, before I knew that the Abbe d’Aigrigny belonged to it.  Oh! it is dreadful.  If you knew what means they employ!  When I tell you that, thanks to their diabolical devices, the most pure and devoted appearances often conceal the most horrible snares.”  Rodin’s eye rested, as if by chance, on the hunchback; but, seeing that Adrienne did not take the hint, the Jesuit continued:  “In a word—­are you not exposed to their pursuits?—­have they any interest in gaining you over?—­oh! from that moment, suspect all that surround you, suspect the most noble attachments, the most tender affections, for these monsters sometimes succeed in corrupting your best friends, and making a terrible use of them, in proportion to the blindness of your confidence.”