In 1788 I was in charge of a
parish. I know life.--I have refused three bishoprics already; I mean
to die at Besancon."
"Come and see her!" cried Savarus, seizing a candle, and leading the
Abbe into the handsome room where hung the portrait of the Duchesse
d'Argaiolo, which he lighted up.
"She is one of those women who are born to reign!" said the
Vicar-General, understanding how great an affection Albert showed him
by this mark of confidence. "But there is pride on that brow; it is
implacable; she would never forgive an insult! It is the Archangel
Michael, the angel of Execution, the inexorable angel--'All or
nothing' is the motto of this type of angel. There is something
divinely pitiless in that head."
"You have guessed well," cried Savarus. "But, my dear Abbe, for more
than twelve years now she had reigned over my life, and I have not a
thought for which to blame myself--"
"Ah! if you could only say the same of God!" said the priest with
simplicity. "Now, to talk of your affairs. For ten days I have been at
work for you. If you are a real politician, this time you will follow
my advice. You would not be where you are now if you would have gone
to the Wattevilles when I first told you. But you must go there
to-morrow; I will take you in the evening. The Rouxey estates are in
danger; the case must be defended within three days. The election will
not be over in three days. They will take good care not to appoint
examiners the first day.
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