Chapter 22 twenty

The abbé was waiting for me at Patience, and I related to him the course of the interview, and he fully agreed with me; , but tried his best to encourage him to intimidate me and force me to make great financial sacrifices.It seemed to him that it was clear that the old man, loyal to the monastic spirit, would have given a worldly Mauprat the fruits of his labor and savings into the hands of a monastic Mauprat.he told me: "That is the unalterable characteristic of the Catholic priest. As long as he lives, he cannot but make war on families, and watch every opportunity to plunder them. It seems that the property of these families is all his own, and any method of recovery is desirable. Resist such rhetoric. Blackmail is not as easy as you think. The monks are greedy and scheming. You have to be careful to avoid accidents. You can never make a penitent make up his mind to show his fighting spirit; he is wearing a hood under the cloak of a man, with his head bowed and his hands folded, he can take the most stinging insults. He is not afraid of you when he knows you will not kill him. Besides, you do not understand how justice is in the hands of men, when How is a criminal case handled and judged when one of the two parties is determined not to give in to any threat or inducement? The priests are powerful; the judges speak loudly; echoes on the walls, but will not prevent probationary judges and grievously unjust sentences. Beware! Beware! This Penitent may draw a horde of square hats to follow his tracks, and in time the cicadas come out of their husks and shake them off, Let them follow your footsteps instead. You have wounded the pride of many in thwarting the hopes of your suitors; De La Marche took off his lawyer's robes and took up his sword; but he probably left some among his old colleagues who would be willing to do you harm. You did not join him in America and make him on good terms, I feel Pity. Don't shrug your shoulders; you could kill ten of them, and it would only get worse. They'll take revenge, not necessarily your life. They know you don't take life seriously, just to discredit you; Your great-uncle will die of grief...at last..." ① referring to the judge.

"Good abbe," I interrupted, "you are accustomed to see things as black at first glance, if you do not happen to see the sun in the middle of the night. Let me tell you something that will get rid of this gloomy premonition. I I have known John Mauprat for a long time; he is not only a notorious liar, but also the most despicable coward. He will be ashamed of seeing me. I can make him confess that he is not a penance. A monk, not a monk or a religious man. It's all a game of adventurers. I've heard him advise before, and I'm not surprised by his blundering today; I'm not afraid of him."

"You are mistaken," continued the priest, "one should always be afraid of cowards, because he attacks us from behind while we are waiting for him. If John Mauprat was not a Penitent, if he showed me If the certificates of the Carmelites are deceptive, then the abbot of the Carmelite monastery is a very meticulous and cautious person, so he will not be fooled. This abbot has never supported the lawsuits of the secular people, and never put a secular person As one of my own. Besides, there should be an investigation, and I will write to the Penitentiary at once; but I am sure that he will confirm what I already know. It is even possible that John de Maupra is indeed sincere A man of deep religion. Nothing suits such a character so well as a delicate Catholicism. Inquiry is the soul of the Church, and inquiry must approve of John de Mapra. Kwon surrendered himself just for the pleasure of letting you die with him, and the ambition to build a monastery with your money is a whim, the honor of which belongs entirely to the abbot of the Carmelite monastery..."

"That's unlikely, my dear priest," said I; "and besides, what's the use of talking like that? Let us act. Keep the knight safe from the wretched brute who can disturb his old age. We write to the poor Priest, promise an annuity to this fellow; watch him when he comes. Sergeant Marcus is a great hound, we send him to follow; if he can report him to us in the common language We'll soon know what's happening across the region." Chatting in this way with the priest, I arrived at the castle at sunset.On entering this quiet abode, I was seized with an uneasiness that was as affectionate and childish as a mother feels when she steps away from her children for a moment.Eternal safety undisturbed surrounded by old, sacred wainscoting, the insouciant spirit of old servants, doors always wide open, beggars sometimes walking straight into the parlour, meeting no one or arousing suspicion —all this atmosphere of tranquility, trust, and solitude contrasted sharply with the thoughts of anxiety and battle that had filled my mind for hours with the reappearance of John and the threats of the Abbot.I hurried across the billiard room, suddenly shuddering involuntarily.At this moment, I seemed to catch a glimpse of a dark figure passing under the window on the ground floor, slipping into the jasmine bushes and disappearing into the twilight.I quickly pushed open the door of the living room, and couldn't help being stunned.There was no sound, no movement.I was going away to join Edmee's father in her room, when I believed I saw something white moving near the fireplace where the knight had been.I cried:

"Edmee, are you here?" No one answered.Cold sweat broke out on my forehead, and my knees trembled.Ashamed of such an unusual weakness, I rushed to the fire, calling Edmee's name repeatedly with anxiety. "Bernard, you're finally here?" She replied with a trembling voice. I took her in my arms; she knelt beside my father's armchair, her lips pressed against the old man's cold hand. "My God!" I exclaimed, making out the knight's stiff, livid face in the dim light of the room. "Did our father stop breathing?" "Perhaps," she said, with a lump in her throat, "maybe it's just a swoon, if that's all it takes! Bring the lamp, in God's name! Ring the bell! He's only been in this state for a moment. "

I rang the bell hastily; the priest came, and we had the good fortune to save my uncle. When he opened his eyes, however, his mind seemed to be still battling the impressions of a nightmare. "Is he gone? Is the vile ghost gone?" he asked several times aloud. "Hey! St. John! Get my pistol! . . . Somebody! Throw the wretch out of the window!" I kind of found the truth. "What happened?" I whispered to Edmee. "Who was here in my absence?" "Even if I tell you," replied Edmee, "you will hardly believe it. You will think my father and I are mad; wait a moment and I will tell you all this; take care of my father first."

Through her gentle words and kind care, she finally restored the old man to peace.We carried him into his bedroom and he fell asleep peacefully.Edmee gently took her hand from his, and lowering the cotton curtain over his head, she approached the abbe and me, and told us that a quarter of an hour before we both came back, a monk who was asking for donations came in. The living room, where she was embroidering at the time, was by her custom near her dozing father.She was not much surprised by such an occasional incident, and as she rose to fetch her purse from the fireplace, she spoke kind words to the monk.But just as she turned to hand him his alms, the knight awoke with a start, looked at the monk with terror and anger, and cried out:

"Damn it! Sir, what are you doing here in all your clothes?" Edmee looked at the monk's face now; she recognized... "A man you never dream of," she said, "the dreadful Johann Mauprat! I have only seen him an hour in my life, but I shall never forget that repulsive face; Fever, it appeared in front of my eyes. I couldn't help crying out. "'Don't be afraid,' said he, with an ugly smile, 'I have not come here as an enemy, but as a supplicant.' "So saying he knelt down close to my father; I didn't know what he was going to do, and rushed between them, and pushed the wheelchair back so hard that it fell back against the wall. Then the monk began to speak bitterly, and the night approached made his voice more frightening; he made some pathetic confession to us incoherently, that he had been guilty of the murder of his predecessors, and that he had been clothed in black when they went to the guillotine.

"'The wretch is crazy,' said my father, pulling the bell cord. "But St. John seemed to be deaf, and would not come. We had to listen with inexpressible anxiety to the strange speeches of this man. He claimed to be an ascetic, and he came to surrender himself to the judiciary, to make amends. His sins. He wanted first my father's forgiveness and final blessing. He walked on his knees as he said this, sounding passionate. The words were too humble to speak aloud, but there was a mocking and Intimidating. As he got closer and closer to my father, I was disgusted at the thought that he seemed to be giving my father a dirty touch, and in a rather imperious tone told him to stand up and speak decently. My father was very angry. , ordering him to shut up and get out; at this moment he cried out: 'No! Let me hug your knees!' I pushed him to prevent him from touching my father. The thought of my gloves touching this filthy cassock , I trembled with disgust. He turned to me, and though he was feigning remorse and humility all the while, I saw the blaze of anger in his eyes. My father tried desperately to get up, and he did, miraculously, rise; But then fainted on the seat again. There was a sound of footsteps in the billiard room; the monk slammed the glass door out with lightning speed. That's when you found me half dead, chilled with fright, at my exhausted father's feet side."

"You see, priest, the odious coward wasted no time!" I cried. "He tried to frighten the knight and Edmee, and he succeeded. But he didn't take me into account. I swear, if it had to be Mauprat." Treat him the way he did...if he ever dares to show up here again..." "Shut up, Bernard," said Edmee, "you make me shudder; stop talking nonsense; tell me what all this means?" When I told her what had happened to the priest and myself, she blamed us for not informing her. "If I had known what to expect, I should not have been frightened; I would have taken the precaution of never being alone at home with my father and St. John. St. John is almost disabled. Now I am afraid of nothing; I will be vigilant. But, my dear Bernard, the surest thing is to avoid contact with this unfortunate man, and to give him as much as possible in order to get rid of him. The priest is right; he can be difficult to deal with. He knows us Being related to him, I would never resort to the protection of the law to escape his persecution. Even if he can't hurt us as badly as he thinks, at least he can cause us countless troubles, I really don't want to face it. Throw Give him the gold, and let him go. Don't ever leave me again, Bernard. You see, you are absolutely necessary to me; you think you have hurt me, so please don't suffer from it. "

I clasped her hand tightly in mine, and swore I would never leave her, even if she ordered me herself, as long as this ascetic friar didn't leave his hometown. The priest volunteered to negotiate with the monastery.The next day he went into town, and brought my message to the ascetics.Promise to throw him out of the window if he dares to reappear at the Château de Saint-Severre.At the same time I advised him to provide for his needs, and even leniently, provided that he departed at once, and never set foot in the country of Berry; choose. When the abbot received the priest, he showed his deep contempt for his heretic status and disgust out of holiness.Instead of flattering the abbe as he did to me, he said that he wished to have nothing to do with the matter, that he would let it go, that he would confine himself to conveying the decision for both parties, and to offer the refuge of Friar Nepomisena, both out of Christian charity and To impress the priests of his house by the example of a true saint.According to him, according to canon law, Brother Nepomyssena would be Nepomyssena's second-in-command in the first rank of the angelic army. The next day the abbe was recalled to the monastery by a messenger, and met with the ascetics.To his great astonishment, the enemy changed his tactics, angrily rejected all kinds of funding, swore to defend himself with a shield of poverty and lowliness, and exaggeratedly condemned his dear master abbot for proposing to use it without his consent. Eternal wealth in exchange for temporary wealth.He refused to explain the rest, hiding it in ambiguous and pompous replies.God would enlighten him, he said; and he planned to hear the voice of Jesus speak to his heart next Feast of the Assumption, in the solemn, sublime, holy communion, to tell him what to do.The priest, fearing that he would reveal his uneasiness by persisting in prying into this "sacred secret", came back to tell me, but this answer reassured me more than any other. Yet the days passed, the weeks passed, and the ascetic showed no intention of anything.He reappeared neither at the castle nor in the vicinity; shut up in the monastery, few saw his face.But it soon became known to everyone that the abbot actively spread the news that John de Maupra had turned into the most ardent and exemplary believer. Monastery for a short stay.Every day some new virtue, some new austerity of the saint is recited.Believers who longed for miracles all wanted to see him and sent him countless small gifts, but he firmly refused to accept them all.Sometimes he hid so well that it was rumored that he had gone back to the asylum.But just when we thought we were rid of him, we learned that he had just finished a terrible penance in penitence, or had made a pilgrimage barefoot in the wildest wastelands of Varenna.Some even say that he performed miracles; if the abbot did not cure the gout, it was because of his ascetic spirit that he himself did not want to be cured. This ambiguity persisted for nearly two months.