ition has taken possession of his
mind, and he thinks, by stupid, childish threats, to intimidate my
uncle to such an extent that he will be able to extort from him the
wherewithal to satisfy his new tastes, let him undeceive himself--tell
him so from me. The old man's peace of mind and his daughter's future
have only myself as guardian, and I shall manage to guard them, though
it be at the risk of my life and my honour."

"And yet honour and life are of some importance at your age," replied
the abbe, visibly irritated, but feigning a suaver manner than ever.
"Who knows into what folly religious fervour may lead the Trappist?
For, between ourselves be it said, my child--you see, I am a man of
moderation--I knew the world in my youth, and I do not approve of these
violent resolves, which are more often dictated by pride than piety.
For instance, I have consented to temper the austerity of our rules; my
friars look well-fed, and they wear shirts. Rest assured, my good sir, I
am far from approving of your uncle's design, and I shall do all that
is possible to hinder it. Yet, if he still persists, how will my efforts
profit you? He has obtained his superior's permission, and may, after
all, yield to his fatal inspiration. You may be seriously compromised by
an affair of this kind; for, although reports say that you are a worthy
young gentleman, though you have abjured the errors of the past, and
though, perhaps, your soul has always hated iniquity, you have certainly
been involved in many misdeeds which human laws condemn and punish. Who
can tell into what involuntary revelations Brother Nepomucene may
find himself drawn if he sets in motion the machinery of criminal
proceedings? Can he set it in motion against himself without at the same
time setting it in motion against you? Believe me, I wish for peace--I
am a kindly man."

"Yes, a very kindly man, father," I answered, in a tone of irony. "I see
that perfectly. But do not let this matter cause you needless anxiety;
for there is one very clear argument which must reassure both of us. If
a veritable religious impulse urges Brother John the Trappist to make a
public reparation, it will be easy to make him understand that he ought
to hesitate before he drags another than himself into the abyss; the
spirit of Christ forbids him to do this. But, if the truth is, as I
presume, that M. Jean de Mauprat has not the least wish to hand himself
over to justice, his threats are but l