f the Radicals in Tours; that your political
opinions were objectionable; you were not following in the lines of
the government,--with other remarks as much involved as if he were
addressing the Chamber. On that I said to him, 'Nonsense; let us come
to the point.' The end was that his Excellency told me frankly you
were in bad odor with the diocese. In short, I made a few inquiries
among my colleagues, and I find that you have been talking slightingly
of a certan Abbe Troubert, the vicar-general, but a very important
personage in the province, where he represents the Jesuits. I have
made myself responsible to the minister for your future conduct. My
good nephew, if you want to make your way be careful not to excite
ecclesiastical enmities. Go at once to Tours and try to make your
peace with that devil of a vicar-general; remember that such priests
are men with whom we absolutely _must_ live in harmony. Good heavens!
when we are all striving and working to re-establish religion it is
actually stupid, in a lieutenant who wants to be made a captain, to
affront the priests. If you don't make up matters with that Abbe
Troubert you needn't count on me; I shall abandon you. The minister of
ecclesiastical affairs told me just now that Troubert was certain to
be made bishop before long; if he takes a dislike to our family he
could hinder me from being included in the next batch of peers. Don't
you understand?"

These words explained to the naval officer the nature of Troubert's
secret occupations, about which Birotteau often remarked in his silly
way: "I can't think what he does with himself,--sitting up all night."

The canon's position in the midst of his female senate, converted so
adroitly into provincial detectives, and his personal capacity, had
induced the Congregation of Jesus to select him out of all the
ecclesiastics in the town, as the secret proconsul of Touraine.
Archbishop, general, prefect, all men, great and small, were under his
occult dominion. The Baron de Listomere decided at once on his course.

"I shall take care," he said to his uncle, "not to get another round
shot below my water-line."

Three days after this diplomatic conference between the uncle and
nephew, the latter, returning hurriedly in a post-chaise, informed his
aunt, the very night of his arrival, of the dangers the family were
running if they peristed in supporting that "fool of a Birotteau." The
baron had detained Monsieur de Bourbonne as