y was so guileless and Mademoiselle Gamard's conduct
so atrocious, the fate of the poor old man seemed so deplorable, and his
natural helplessness made him so touching, that in the first glow of
her indignation Madame de Listomere exclaimed: "I made you put your
signature to that document which has ruined you; I am bound to give you
back the happiness of which I have deprived you."

"But," remarked Monsieur de Bourbonne, "that deed constitutes a fraud;
there may be ground for a lawsuit."

"Then Birotteau shall go to the law. If he loses at Tours he may win at
Orleans; if he loses at Orleans, he'll win in Paris," cried the Baron de
Listomere.

"But if he does go to law," continued Monsieur de Bourbonne, coldly, "I
should advise him to resign his vicariat."

"We will consult lawyers," said Madame de Listomere, "and go to law if
law is best. But this affair is so disgraceful for Mademoiselle Gamard,
and is likely to be so injurious to the Abbe Troubert, that I think we
can compromise."

After mature deliberation all present promised their assistance to the
Abbe Birotteau in the struggle which was now inevitable between the poor
priest and his antagonists and all their adherents. A true presentiment,
an infallible provincial instinct, led them to couple the names of
Gamard and Troubert. But none of the persons assembled on this occasion
in Madame de Listomere's salon, except the old fox, had any real idea of
the nature and importance of such a struggle. Monsieur de Bourbonne took
the poor abbe aside into a corner of the room.

"Of the fourteen persons now present," he said, in a low voice, "not
one will stand by you a fortnight hence. If the time comes when you need
some one to support you you may find that I am the only person in Tours
bold enough to take up your defence; for I know the provinces and men
and things, and, better still, I know self-interests. But these friends
of yours, though full of the best intentions, are leading you astray
into a bad path, from which you won't be able to extricate yourself.
Take my advice; if you want to live in peace, resign the vicariat of
Saint-Gatien and leave Tours. Don't say where you are going, but find
some distant parish where Troubert cannot get hold of you."

"Leave Tours!" exclaimed the vicar, with indescribable terror.

To him it was a kind of death; the tearing up of all the roots by which
he held to life. Celibates substitute habits for feelings; and when to
that