ed the Abbe Gabriel, interrupting him.

At this moment the rector felt a hand pulling at his cassock; he heard
sobs, and turning round he saw the whole family kneeling before him.
Young and old, small and great, all were stretching their supplicating
hands to him. One sole cry rose from their lips as he turned his face
upon them:--

"Save his soul, at least!"

The old grandmother it was who had pulled his cassock and was wetting it
with her tears.

"I shall obey, monsieur."

That said, the rector was forced to sit down, for his legs trembled
under him. The young secretary explained the frenzied state of the
criminal's mind.

"Do you think," he said, as he ended his account, "that the sight of his
young sister would shake his determination?"

"Yes, I do," replied the rector. "Denise, you must go with us."

"And I, too," said the mother.

"No!" cried the father; "that child no longer exists for us, and you
know it. None of us shall see him."

"Do not oppose what may be for his salvation," said the young abbe. "You
will be responsible for his soul if you refuse us the means of softening
it. His death may possibly do more injury than his life has done."

"She may go," said the father; "it shall be her punishment for opposing
all the discipline I ever wished to give her son."

The Abbe Gabriel and Monsieur Bonnet returned to the parsonage, where
Denise and her mother were requested to come in time to start for
Limoges with the two ecclesiastics.

As the younger man walked along the path which followed the outskirts
of upper Montegnac he was able to examine the village priest so warmly
commended by the vicar-general less superficially than he did in church.
He felt at once inclined in his favor, by the simple manners, the voice
full of magic power, and the words in harmony with the voice of the
village rector. The latter had only visited the bishop's palace once
since the prelate had taken Gabriel de Rastignac as secretary. He had
hardly seen this favorite, destined for the episcopate, though he knew
how great his influence was. Nevertheless, he behaved with a dignified
courtesy that plainly showed the sovereign independence which the Church
bestows on rectors in their parishes. But the feelings of the young
abbe, far from animating his face, gave it a stern expression; it
was more than cold, it was icy. A man capable of changing the moral
condition of a whole population must surely possess some powers of
obs