The cure thanked him, apologizing for troubling him, and stammered out a thousand grateful promises.
M. Marin was enchanted.
“Ah, you may be proud of having made a stroke of luck, Monsieur l'Abbe. You will see—you will see that, thanks to me, your affair will go along swimmingly.”
They reached the council hall. M. Marin took the priest into his office, offered him a chair in front of the fire and sat down himself at his desk and began to write.
“My dear colleague, allow me to recommend to you most highly a venerable and particularly worthy and deserving priest, M. L'Abbe——”
He stopped and asked:
“Your name, if you please?”
“L'Abbe Ceinture.”
“M. l'Abbe Ceinture, who needs your good office in a little matter which he will communicate to you.
“I am pleased at this incident which gives me an opportunity, my dear colleague——”