Julien read:
“Amanda Binet of the Giraffe Café before eight o’clock. Say you’re from Genlis, and my mother’s cousin.”
Julien realised the immense danger. The spies of the abbé Castanède had stolen the address.
“I was trembling with fear the day I came here,” he answered, looking at the abbé Pirard’s forehead, for he could not endure that terrible gaze. “M. Chélan told me that this is a place of informers and mischief-makers of all kinds, and that spying and tale-bearing by one comrade on another was encouraged by the authorities. Heaven wishes it to be so, so as to show life such as it is to the young priests, and fill them with disgust for the world and all its pomps.”
“And it’s to me that you make these fine speeches,” said the abbé Pirard furiously. “You young villain.”
“My brothers used to beat me at Verrières,” answered Julien coldly, “When they had occasion to be jealous of me.”
“Indeed, indeed,” exclaimed M. Pirard, almost beside himself.
Julien went on with his story without being in the least intimidated:—
“The day of my arrival at Besançon I was hungry, and I entered a café. My spirit was full of revulsion for so profane a place, but I thought that my breakfast would cost me less than at an inn. A lady, who seemed to be the mistress of the establishment, took pity on my inexperience. ‘Besançon is full of bad characters,’ she said to me. ‘I fear something will happen to you, sir. If some mishap should occur to you, have recourse to me and send to my house before eight o’clock. If the porters of the seminary refuse to execute your errand, say you are my cousin and a native of Genlis.’”
“I will have all this chatter verified,” exclaimed the abbé Pirard, unable to stand still, and walking about the room.