'Well,' said De Narbonne, every cloud disappearing from his face, 'perhaps you exaggerate a little; but let that pass, we will for the moment suppose it so. Proceed, my good sir.'
'My Lord, at the present instant the fate of France hangs on the turn of the scale; a feather may incline the balance one way or the other.'
'Possibly you are right,' said the bishop.
'M. Necker has been dismissed.'
'Indeed! how do you know that?'
'Never mind how, my Lord, but I do know it. As soon as the news of the change of ministry reaches Paris, the city will be in arms, and not Paris only, but every large town in France will rise. You cannot rely upon the French guard, they are certain to fraternize with the people; the events of the last few days must convince you of that. You know how that only ten days ago the people broke into the prison of the Abbaye, and liberated some dozen soldiers who had been thrown there for having sworn to obey no orders contrary to those of the Assembly. You know that a body of hussars and dragoons was sent against the people, and that they refused to draw their swords upon them, but drank with the mob the health of the nation. Perhaps you may not know, monseigneur, that privates and officers of the French guard are heart and soul with the people, that secret societies have been formed amongst them long ago, and that disaffection has spread also to the regulars. You can only rely on the Swiss and German mercenaries. Monseigneur, if Necker be not immediately recalled, there will be civil war in France,—a civil war between the French people and their brothers the French soldiery on one side, and the Court and its hired foreigners on the other. Are you prepared for this?'
The Bishop of Évreux was uneasy. He knew that what the curé said was true, but the prospect was one he did not like to contemplate in all its nakedness.
'You overrate my influence,' he said.
'At a moment like the present, every one should use what little influence he has to avert a terrible disaster. Pray, my Lord, face the consequences of this mad action for one moment, and consider whether it is not worth your while at all hazards to strain every nerve to undo it before it has produced its effects,—to stamp out the match before it has exploded the barrel of gunpowder into which it has been cast. My Lord, you, if you withhold your voice, will be responsible for the blood which will flow in torrents.'
'Monsieur Lindet,' said the bishop, gravely, but with his hands twitching, for he was frightened, 'sometimes the surgeon has to cut deep to heal a deadly disease. Even supposing the worst were to come to pass which you anticipate, and which God avert! it may be the means of restoring tranquillity to France.'