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by the company at Madame de Listomere's;an old lady with whom he

spent every Wednesday evening。



The vicar rang loudly; as if to let the servant know she was not to

keep him waiting。 Then he stood close to the door to avoid; if he

could; getting showered; but the drip from the roof fell precisely on

the toes of his shoes; and the wind blew gusts of rain into his face

that were much like a shower…bath。 Having calculated the time necesary

for the woman to leave the kitchen and pull the string of the outer

door; he rang again; this time in a manner that resulted in a very

significant peal of the bell。



〃They can't be out;〃 he said to himself; not hearing any movement on

the premises。



Again he rang; producing a sound that echoed sharply through the house

and was taken up and repeated by all the echoes of the cathedral; so

that no one could avoid waking up at the remonstrating racket。

Accordingly; in a few moments; he heard; not without some pleasure in

his wrath; the wooden shoes of the servant…woman clacking along the

paved path which led to the outer door。 But even then the discomforts

of the gouty old gentleman were not so quickly over as he hoped。

Instead of pulling the string; Marianne was obliged to turn the lock

of the door with its heavy key; and pull back all the bolts。



〃Why did you let me ring three times in such weather?〃 said the vicar。



〃But; monsieur; don't you see the door was locked? We have all been in

bed ever so long; it struck a quarter to eleven some time ago。

Mademoiselle must have thought you were in。〃



〃You saw me go out; yourself。 Besides; Mademoiselle knows very well I

always go to Madame de Listomere's on Wednesday evening。〃



〃I only did as Mademoiselle told me; monsieur。〃



These words struck the vicar a blow; which he felt the more because

his late revery had made him completely happy。 He said nothing and

followed Marianne towards the kitchen to get his candlestick; which he

supposed had been left there as usual。 But instead of entering the

kitchen Marianne went on to his own apartments; and there the vicar

beheld his candlestick on a table close to the door of the red salon;

in a sort of antechamber formed by the landing of the staircase; which

the late canon had inclosed with a glass partition。 Mute with

amazement; he entered his bedroom hastily; found no fire; and called

to Marianne; who had not had time to get downstairs。



〃You have not lighted the fire!〃 he said。



〃Beg pardon; Monsieur l'abbe; I did;〃 she said; 〃it must have gone

out。〃



Birotteau looked again at the hearth; and felt convinced that the fire

had been out since morning。



〃I must dry my feet;〃 he said。 〃Make the fire。〃



Marianne obeyed with the haste of a person who wants to get back to

her night's rest。 While looking about him for his slippers; which were

not in the middle of his bedside carpet as usual; the abbe took mental

notes of the state of Marianne's dress; which convinced him that she

had not got out of bed to open the door as she said she had。 He then

recollected that for the last two weeks he had been deprived of

various little attentions which for eighteen months had made life

sweet to him。 Now; as the nature of narrow minds induces them to study

trifles; Birotteau plunged suddenly into deep meditation on these four

circumstances; imperceptible in their meaning to others; but to him

indicative of four catastrophes。 The total loss of his happiness was

evidently foreshadowed in the neglect to place his slipppers; in

Marianne's falsehood about the fire; in the unusual removal of his

candlestick to the table of the antechamber; and in the evident

intention to keep him waiting in the rain。



When the fire was burning on the hearth; and the lamp was lighted; and

Marianne had departed without saying; as usual; 〃Does Monsieur want

anything more?〃 the Abbe Birotteau let himself fall gently into the

wide and handsome easy…chair of his late friend; but there was

something mournful in the movement with which he dropped upon it。 The

good soul was crushed by a presentiment of coming calamity。 His eyes

roved successively to the handsome tall clock; the bureau; curtains;

chairs; carpets; to the stately bed; the basin of holy…water; the

crucifix; to a Virgin by Valentin; a Christ by Lebrun;in short; to

all the accessories of this cherished room; while his face expressed

the anguish of the tenderest farewell that a lover ever took of his

first mistress; or an old man of his lately planted trees。 The vicar

had just perceived; somewhat late it is true; the signs of a dumb

persecution instituted against him for the last three months by

Mademoiselle Gamard; whose evil intentions would doubtless have been

fathomed much sooner by a more intelligent man。 Old maids have a

special talent for accentuating the words and actions which their

dislikes suggest to them。 They scratch like cats。 They not only wound

but they take pleasure in wounding; and in making their victim see

that he is wounded。 A man of the world would never have allowed

himself to be scratched twice; the good abbe; on the contrary; had

taken several blows from those sharp claws before he could be brought

to believe in any evil intention。



But when he did perceive it; he set to work; with the inquisitorial

sagacity which priests acquire by directing consciences and burrowing

into the nothings of the confessional; to establish; as though it were

a matter of religious controversy; the following proposition:

〃Admitting that Mademoiselle Gamard did not remember it was Madame de

Listomere's evening; and that Marianne did think I was home; and did

really forget to make my fire; it is impossible; inasmuch as I myself

took down my candlestick this morning; that Mademoiselle Gamard;

seeing it in her salon; could have supposed I had gone to bed。 Ergo;

Mademoiselle Gamard intended that I should stand out in the rain; and;

by carrying my candlestick upstairs; she meant to make me understand

it。 What does it all mean?〃 he said aloud; roused by the gravity of

these circumstances; and rising as he spoke to take off his damp

clothes; get into his dressing…gown; and do up his head for the night。

Then he returned from the bed to the fireplace; gesticulating; and

launching forth in various tones the following sentences; all of which

ended in a high falsetto key; like notes of interjection:



〃What the deuce have I done to her? Why is she angry with me? Marianne

did NOT forget my fire! Mademoiselle told her not to light it! I must

be a child if I can't see; from the tone and manner she has been

taking to me; that I've done something to displease her。 Nothing like

it ever happened to Chapeloud! I can't live in the midst of such

torments asAt my age〃



He went to bed hoping that the morrow might enlighten him on the

causes of the dislike which threatened to destroy forever the

happiness he had now enjoyed two years after wishing for it so long。

Alas! the secret reasons for the inimical feelings Mademoiselle Gamard

bore to the luckless abbe were fated to remain eternally unknown to

him;not that they were difficult to fathom; but simply because he

lacked the good faith and candor by which great souls and scoundrels

look within and judge themselves。 A man of genius or a trickster says

to himself; 〃I did wrong。〃 Self…interest and native talent are the

only infallible and lucid guides。 Now the Abbe Birotteau; whose

goodness amounted to stupidity; whose knowledge was only; as it were;

plastered on him by dint of study; who had no experience whatever of

the world and its ways; who lived between the mass and the

confessional; chiefly occupied in dealing the most trivial matters of

conscience in his capacity of confessor to all the schools in town and

to a few noble souls who rightly appreciated him;the Abbe Birotteau

must be regarded as a great child; to whom most of the practices of

social life were utterly unknown。 And yet; the natural selfishness of

all human beings; reinforced by the selfishness peculiar to the

priesthood and that of the narrow life of the provinces had

insensibly; and unknown to himself; developed within him。 If any one

had felt enough interest in the good man to probe his spirit and prove

to him that in the numerous petty details of his life and in the

minute duties of his daily existence he was essentially lacking in the

self…sacrifice he professed; he would have punished and mortified

himself in good faith。 But those whom we offend by such unconscious

selfishness pay little heed to our real innocence; what they want is

vengeance; and they take it。 Thus it happened that Birotteau; weak

brother that he was; was made to undergo the decrees of that great

distributive Justice which goes about compelling the world to execute

its judgments;called by ninnies 〃the misfortunes of life。〃



There was this difference between the late Chapeloud and the vicar;

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