s the first time, since his
return from America, that Gabriel found himself in presence of Father
d'Aigrigny; and although he did not shrink from the resolution he had
taken, he regretted not to have been able, as he had hoped, to gather
new strength and courage from an interview with Agricola and Dagobert.
Father d'Aigrigny knew mankind too well not to have remarked the emotion
of the young priest, and to have endeavored to explain its cause. This
emotion appeared to him a favorable omen; he redoubled, therefore, his
seductive arts, his air of tenderness and amenity, reserving to himself,
if necessary, the choice of assuming another mask. He sat down, while
Gabriel and Rodin remained standing in a respectful position, and said
to the former: "You desire, my dear son, to have an important interview
with me?"

"Yes, father," said Gabriel, involuntarily casting down his eyes before
the large, glittering gray pupil of his superior.

"And I also have matters of great importance to communicate to you.
Listen to me first; you can speak afterwards."

"I listen, father."

"It is about twelve years ago, my dear son," said Father d'Aigrigny,
affectionately, "that the confessor of your adopted mother, addressing
himself to me through M. Rodin, called my attention to yourself, by
reporting the astonishing progress you had made at the school of the
Brothers. I soon found, indeed, that your excellent conduct, your
gentle, modest character, and your precocious intelligence, were worthy
of the most tender interest. From that moment I kept my eyes upon
you, and at the end of some time, seeing that you did not fall off, it
appeared to me that there was something more in you than the stuff that
makes a workman. We agreed with your adopted mother, and through my
intervention, you were admitted gratuitously to one of the schools of
our Company. Thus one burden the less weighed upon the excellent woman
who had taken charge of you, and you received from our paternal care all
the benefits of a religious education. Is not this true, my dear son?"

"It is true, father," answered Gabriel, casting down his eyes.

"As you grew up, excellent and rare virtues displayed themselves in your
character. Your obedience and mildness were above all exemplary. You
made rapid progress in your studies. I knew not then to what career you
wished to devote yourself, but I felt certain that, in every station of
life, you would remain a faithful son of the Chu