“If Monsieur Troubert is a rogue …”
“Dear me,” said Monsieur de Bourbonne, “why bring the Abbé Troubert’s name into a matter with which he has no concern whatever?”
“Nay,” said the lieutenant, “is he not in the enjoyment of the Abbé Birotteau’s furniture? I remember having called on Monsieur Chapeloud and seeing two valuable pictures. Suppose they are worth ten thousand francs? Can you believe that Monsieur Birotteau ever intended to give, in return for two years’ board with this Gamard woman, ten thousand francs, when the library and furniture are worth almost as much more?”
The Abbé opened his eyes very wide on hearing that he had ever owned such an enormous fortune. And the Baron went on vehemently to the end.
“By Jove! Monsieur Salmon, an expert from the Paris gallery, happens to be here on a visit to his mother-in-law. I will go to him this very evening with Monsieur l’Abbé, and beg him to value the pictures. From thence I will take him to that lawyer.”
Two days after this conversation the action had taken shape. The solicitor to the Liberal party, now Birotteau’s attorney, cast some obloquy on the Abbé’s case. The Opposition to the Government, and some persons known to love neither priests nor religion—two things which many people fail to distinguish—took up the matter, and the whole town was talking of it. The expert from Paris had valued the Virgin by le Valentin, and the Christ by Lebrun, at eleven thousand francs; they were both choice examples. As to the bookcase and the Gothic furniture, the fashionable taste, daily growing in Paris, for that style of work gave them an immediate value of twelve thousand francs. In short, the expert, on examination, estimated the contents of the rooms at ten thousand crowns.
Now, it was obvious that as Birotteau had never intended to give Mademoiselle Gamard this immense sum in payment of the little money he might owe her in virtue of the stipulated indemnity, there were grounds, legally speaking, for a new contract, otherwise the old maid would be guilty of unintentional fraud. So the lawyer on Birotteau’s behalf began by serving a writ on Mademoiselle Gamard, formulating the Abbé’s case. This statement, though exceedingly severe, and supported by quotations from leading judgments, and confirmed by certain articles of the Code, was at the same time a masterpiece of legal logic, and so evidently condemned the old maid, that thirty or forty copies were maliciously circulated in the town by the opposite party.
A few days after this commencement of hostilities between the old maid and Birotteau, the Baron de Listomère, who, as commander of a corvette, hoped to be included in the next list of promotions, which had been expected for some time at the Navy Board, received a letter, in which a friend informed him that there was, on the contrary, some idea in the office of placing him on the Retired List. Greatly amazed by this news, he at once set out for Paris, and appeared at the Minister’s next reception. This official himself seemed no less surprised, and even laughed at the fears expressed by the Baron de Listomère.
Next day, in spite of the Minister’s words, the Baron inquired at the office. With an indiscretion, such as is not unfrequently committed by heads of departments for their friends, a secretary showed him a minute confirming the fatal news, ready drawn up, but which had not yet been submitted to the Minister, in consequence of the illness of a head-clerk. The Baron at once went to call on an uncle, who, being a député, could without delay meet the Minister at the Chamber, and begged him to sound His Excellency as to his views, since to him this meant the sacrifice of his whole career. He awaited the closing of the sitting in his uncle’s carriage in the greatest anxiety.
Long before the end his uncle came out, and as they drove home to his house he asked the Baron:—
“What the devil led you to make war against the priesthood? The Minister told me at once that you had put yourself at the head of the Liberal party at Tours. Your opinions are detestable, you do not follow the line laid down by the Government, and whatnot! His phrases were as confused as if he were still addressing the Chamber. So then I said to him, ‘Come, let us understand each other.’ And His Excellency ended by confessing that you were in a scrape with the Lord High Almoner. In short, by making some inquiries among my colleagues, I learned that you had spoken with much levity of a certain Abbé Troubert, who, though but a Vicar-General, is the most important personage of the province, where he represents the ecclesiastical power. I answered for you to the Minister in person.—My noble nephew, if you want to get on in the world, make no enemies in the Church.
“Now, go back to Tours, and make your peace with this devil of a Vicar-General. Remember that Vicars-General are men with whom you must always live in peace. Deuce take it! When we are all trying to reestablish the Church, to cast discredit on the priests is a blunder in a ship’s lieutenant who wants his promotion. If you do not make it up with this Abbé Troubert, you need not look to me; I shall cast you off. The Minister for Church Affairs spoke to me of the man just now as certain to be a Bishop. If Troubert took an aversion for our family, he might hinder my name from appearing in the next batch of peers.—Do you understand?”
This speech explained to the navy lieutenant what Troubert’s secret occupations were, when Birotteau so stupidly remarked, “I cannot think what good he gains by sitting up all night!”
The Canon’s position, in the midst of the feminine senate which so craftily kept a surveillance over the province, as well as his personal
