'Oh! just now he is in the full swing of triumph. But his face disquiets me, my child. He has a terrible face. That man will never die in his bed. Don't you do anything to compromise me. All I ask is to be allowed to live tranquilly—quietness is all I want.'
Abbé Surin was just taking up his book again, when Abbé Faujas was announced. Monseigneur Rousselot advanced to meet him with outstretched hands and a smiling face, addressing him as his 'dear Curé.'
'Leave us, my child,' he said to his secretary, who thereupon retired.
He spoke of his journey. His sister was better than she had been, he said, and he had been able to shake hands with some old friends.
'And did you see the minister?' asked Abbé Faujas, fixing his eyes upon him.
'Yes; I thought it my duty to call upon him,' replied the Bishop, who felt that he was blushing. 'He spoke to me very favourably indeed of you.'
'Then you no longer have any doubts—you trust me absolutely?'
'Absolutely, my dear Curé. Besides, I know nothing about politics myself, and I leave everything in your hands.'
They remained talking together the whole morning. Abbé Faujas persuaded the Bishop to undertake a visitation of his diocese, and said he would go with him and prompt him as to what he should say. It would be necessary to summon all the rural deans so that the priests of the smallest villages might receive their instructions. There would be no difficulty in all this, for the clergy would act as they were told. The most delicate task would be in Plassans itself, in the district of Saint-Marc. The aristocrats there, shutting themselves up in the privacy of their houses, were entirely beyond the reach of Abbé Faujas's influence, and he had so far only been able to work upon certain ambitious royalists, such men as Rastoil and Maffre and Bourdeu. The Bishop, however, undertook to sound the feelings of various drawing-rooms in the district of Saint-Marc where he visited. But even allowing that the aristocracy should vote adversely, they would be in a ridiculous minority if they were deserted by those electors of the middle classes who were amenable to clerical influence.
'Now,' said Monseigneur Rousselot as he rose from his seat, 'it would perhaps be as well if you told me the name of your candidate, so that I may recommend him in my letters.'