er, collect yourself; do not let success
overcome you thus."

Whilst the little one-eyed man was, attending to Rodin, Samuel carefully
replaced the securities in the iron casket. Thanks to his unconquerable
energy, and to the joy he felt at seeing himself so near the term of his
labors, Rodin mastered this attack of weakness, and drawing himself up,
calm and proud, he said to Caboccini: "It is nothing. I did not survive
the cholera to die of joy on the first of June."

And, though still frightfully pale, the countenance of the Jesuit shone
with audacious confidence. But now, when Rodin appeared to be quite
recovered, Father Caboccini seemed suddenly transformed. Though short,
fat, and one-eyed, his features assumed on the instant so firm, harsh,
and commanding an expression, that Rodin recoiled a step as he looked at
him. Then Father Caboccini, drawing a paper from his pocket, kissed it
respectfully, glanced sternly at Rodin, and read as follows, in a severe
and menacing tone:

"'On receipt of the present rescript, the Reverend Father Rodin will
deliver up all his powers to the Reverend Father Caboccini, who is
alone commissioned, with the Reverend Father d'Aigrigny, to receive the
inheritance of the Rennepont family, if, in His eternal justice,
the Lord should restore this property, of which our Company has been
wronged.

"'Moreover, on receipt of the present rescript, the Reverend Father
Rodin, in charge of a person to be named by the Reverend Father
Caboccini, shall be conveyed to our house in the Town of Laval, to be
kept in strict seclusion in his cell until further orders.'"

Then Father Caboccini handed the rescript to Rodin, that the latter
might read the signature of the General of the Company. Samuel, greatly
interested by this scene, drew a few steps nearer, leaving the casket
half-open. Suddenly, Rodin burst into a loud laugh--a laugh of joy,
contempt and triumph, impossible to describe. Father Caboccini looked
at him with angry astonishment; when Rodin, growing still more imperious
and haughty, and with an air of more sovereign disdain than ever, pushed
aside the paper with the back of his dirty hand and said: "What is the
date of that scribble?"

"The eleventh of May," answered Father Caboccini in amazement.

"Here is a brief, that I received last night from Rome, under date of
the eighteenth. It informs me that I am appointed GENERAL OF THE ORDER.
Read!"

Father Caboccini took the paper, read it