“Certainly,” said Rodin, addressing the cardinal, “your Eminence may serve our cause, and that materially. I will tell you how presently.”
Then, addressing the princess, he continued: “I have desired Dr. Baleinier to come here, madame, for it will be well to inform him of certain things.”
“He will be admitted as usual,” said the princess.
Since Rodin’s arrival Father d’Aigrigny had remained silent; he seemed occupied with bitter thoughts, and with some violent internal struggle. At last, half rising, he said to the prelate, in a forced tone of voice: “I will not ask your Eminence to judge between the reverend Father Rodin and myself. Our General has pronounced, and I have obeyed. But, as your Eminence will soon see our superior, I should wish that you would grant me the favor to report faithfully the answers of Father Rodin to one or two questions I am about to put to him.”
The prelate bowed. Rodin looked at Father d’Aigrigny with an air of surprise, and said to him, dryly: “The thing is decided. What is the use of questions?”
“Not to justify myself,” answered Father d’Aigrigny, “but to place matters in their true light before his Eminence.”
“Speak, then; but let us have no useless speeches,” said Rodin, drawing out his large silver watch, and looking at it. “By two o’clock I must be at Saint-Sulpice.”
“I will be as brief as possible,” said Father d’Aigrigny, with repressed resentment. Then, addressing Rodin, he resumed: “When your reverence thought fit to take my place, and to blame, very severely perhaps, the manner in which I had managed the interests confided to my care, I confess honestly that these interests were gravely compromised.”
“Compromised?” said Rodin, ironically; “you mean lost. Did you not order me to write to Rome, to bid them renounce all hope?”
“That is true,” said Father d’Aigrigny.