e servant, "I will
take it to M. Rodin. He is now with Father d'Aigrigny, to whom he is
bidding farewell."

"Farewell?"

"Yes, sir, the post-horses have just come."

"Post-horses for whom?" asked Hardy.

"For Father d'Aigrigny, sir."

"He is going on a journey then!" said Hardy, with some surprise.

"Oh! he will not, I think be long absent," said the servant, with a
confidential air, "for the reverend father takes no one with him, and
but very light luggage. No doubt, the reverend father will come to say
farewell to you, sir, before he starts. But what answer shall I give M.
Rodin?"

The letter, just received, was couched in such polite terms--it spoke
of Gabriel with so much respect--that Hardy, urged moreover by a natural
curiosity, and seeing no motive to refuse this interview before quitting
the house, said to the servant: "Please tell M. Rodin, that if he will
give himself the trouble to come to me, I shall be glad to see him."

"I will let him know immediately, sir," answered the servant, bowing as
he left the room.

When alone, Hardy, while wondering who this M. Rodin could be, began
to make some slight preparations for his departure. For nothing in the
world would he have passed another night in this house; and, in order
to keep up his courage, he recalled every instant the mild, evangelical
language of Gabriel, just as the superstitious recite certain litanies,
with a view of escaping from temptation.

The servant soon returned, and said: "M. Rodin is here, sir."

"Beg him to walk in."

Rodin entered, clad in his long black dressing-gown, and with his
old silk cap in his hand. The servant then withdrew. The day was just
closing. Hardy rose to meet Rodin, whose features he did not at first
distinguish. But as the reverend father approached the window, Hardy
looked narrowly at him for an instant, and then uttered an exclamation,
wrung from him by surprise and painful remembrance. But, recovering
himself from this first movement, Hardy said to the Jesuit, in an
agitated voice: "You here, sir? Oh, you are right! It was indeed a very
serious circumstance that first brought us together."

"Oh, my dear sir!" said Rodin, in a kindly and unctuous tone; "I was
sure you would not have forgotten me."

CHAPTER XLIII. PRAYER.

It will doubtless be remembered that Rodin had gone (although a stranger
to Hardy) to visit him at his factory, and inform him of De Blessac's
shameful treachery--a dreadful b