'I have expected to meet you,' said the ex-bishop. 'Indeed, I have waited here on purpose.'
'Monseigneur,' said Lindet, 'I am glad of the opportunity of speaking to you, that I may give expression to my regret that you should have felt yourself unable to take the constitutional oath, and thus have forced me into incurring responsibilities which I tremble to feel upon my shoulders.'
'This is nonsense,' said De Narbonne; 'you have courted it. You curés have been driving matters on to this point for the purpose of stepping on our necks into our thrones.'
'I beg your pardon,' answered Lindet; 'you are altogether mistaken; we had no ambition except for the Church, for ourselves individually none,—none whatever. For myself, I may assure you, my Lord, I had neither the wish nor the expectation of being a bishop, least of all of taking your place.'
'You a bishop!' exclaimed De Narbonne, his red face flaming with passion. 'Do you call yourself a bishop? Pshaw! who will accept you as their prelate?'
Lindet, determined not to resent the insolence of the ex-bishop, replied with moderation: 'You cannot be unaware, Monseigneur, that the vast majority of the clergy in this diocese have signed the Constitution.'
'Wait a bit,' said De Narbonne, threateningly; 'when his holiness speaks, they will be of another mind.'
'Are you sure that the holy father will refuse to recognise the Constitutional Church? Why should he? We hold the Catholic faith; we have the same orders, sacraments, and ritual. There is absolutely no divergence on any religious point between the Church of the old régime and the Church now. The only point on which a difference has arisen has been a political question,—a political one only.'