t--[so much]. That is the
price I choose to give, and not that to which it has fallen since
the great depreciation of all property called national. In a word,
my friend, I wish to pay you more than you ask; let me know if
that suits you.

Laurent Goussard thought at first that either she had misunderstood him
or he her. But when it became clear to him that owing to these pretended
scruples of Mother Marie-des-Anges, he was the gainer of fifty thousand
francs, he would not do violence to so tender a conscience, and he
pocketed this profit (which came to him literally from heaven), but he
went about relating everywhere the marvellous proceeding, which, as you
can well imagine, put Mother Marie-des-Anges on a pinnacle of respect
(especially from the holders of other national property) which leaves
her nothing to fear from any future revolution. Personally Laurent
Goussard has become her slave, her henchman. He does no business, he
takes no step, he never moves a sack of flour without going to her for
advice; and, as she said in joke the other day, if she took a fancy to
make a John the Baptist of the sub-prefect, Laurent Goussard would bring
her his head on a charger. That is proof enough that he will also bring
his vote and that of his friends to any candidate she may favor.

Among the clergy Mother Marie-des-Anges has, naturally, many
affiliations,--as much on account of her high reputation for goodness as
for the habit of her order, but she particularly counts among the
number of her most zealous servitors Monseigneur Troubert, bishop of the
diocese, who, though formerly a familiar of the Congregation [see "The
Vicar of Tours"], has nevertheless managed to secure from the dynasty of
July an archbishopric which will lead to a cardinalship.

When you have the clergy you have, or you are very near having, the
legitimist party with you,--a party which, while passionately desirous
of free education and filled with hatred for the July throne, is not
averse, when occasion offers, to yielding to a monstrous union with
the radical party. Now the head of the legitimists in Arcis and its
neighborhood is, of course, the family of Cinq-Cygne. Never does the old
marquise, whose haughty nature and powerful will you, madame, know well
[see "An Historical Mystery"],--never does she drive into Arcis from her
chateau of Cinq-Cygne, without paying a visit to Mother Marie-des-Anges,
who in former days educated her daughter Berthe,