o the
extraordinary flame in her eyes which made them lucent as a tiger's, "I
cannot understand how it is that you have not waited until I removed my
furniture before--"

"What!" she said, interrupting him, "is it possible that your things
have not been left at Madame de Listomere's?"

"But my furniture?"

"Haven't you read your deed?" said the old maid, in a tone which would
have to be rendered in music before the shades of meaning that hatred is
able to put into the accent of every word could be fully shown.

Mademoiselle Gamard seemed to rise in stature, her eyes shone, her face
expanded, her whole person quivered with pleasure. The Abbe Troubert
opened a window to get a better light on the folio volume he was
reading. Birotteau stood as if a thunderbolt had stricken him.
Mademoiselle Gamard made his ears hum when she enunciated in a voice as
clear as a cornet the following sentence:--

"Was it not agreed that if you left my house your furniture should
belong to me, to indemnify me for the difference in the price of board
paid by you and that paid by the late venerable Abbe Chapeloud? Now, as
the Abbe Poirel has just been appointed canon--"

Hearing the last words Birotteau made a feeble bow as if to take leave
of the old maid, and left the house precipitately. He was afraid if he
stayed longer that he should break down utterly, and give too great a
triumph to his implacable enemies. Walking like a drunken man he at last
reached Madame de Listomere's house, where he found in one of the lower
rooms his linen, his clothing, and all his papers packed in a trunk.
When he eyes fell on these few remnants of his possessions the unhappy
priest sat down and hid his face in his hands to conceal his tears
from the sight of others. The Abbe Poirel was canon! He, Birotteau, had
neither home, nor means, nor furniture!

Fortunately Mademoiselle Salomon happened to drive past the house, and
the porter, who saw and comprehended the despair of the poor abbe, made
a sign to the coachman. After exchanging a few words with Mademoiselle
Salomon the porter persuaded the vicar to let himself be placed, half
dead as he was, in the carriage of his faithful friend, to whom he
was unable to speak connectedly. Mademoiselle Salomon, alarmed at the
momentary derangement of a head that was always feeble, took him back at
once to the Alouette, believing that this beginning of mental alienation
was an effect produced by the sudden news of Abb