"Come now, Monsieur l'abbe, do you really think me capable of such a horrible abuse of confidence?"
"I believe only in crimes which are confessed to me, and of which the sinner repents," said the priest, in an apostolic tone.
"Crime?" cried Minoret.
"A crime frightful in its consequences."
"What consequences?"
"In the fact that it escapes human justice. The crimes which are not expiated here below will be punished in another world. God himself avenges innocence."
"Do you think God concerns himself with such trifles?"
"If he did not see the worlds in all their details at a glance, as you take a landscape into your eye, he would not be God."
"Monsieur l'abbe, will you give me your word of honor that you have had these facts from my uncle?"
"Your uncle has appeared three times to Ursula and has told them and repeated them to her. Exhausted by such visions she revealed them to me privately; she considers them so devoid of reason that she will never speak of them. You may make yourself easy on that point."
"I am easy on all points, Monsieur Chaperon."
"I hope you are," said the old priest. "Even if I considered these warnings absurd, I should still feel bound to inform you of them, considering the singular nature of the details. You are an honest man, and you have obtained your handsome fortune in too legal a way to wish to add to it by theft. Besides, you are an almost primitive man, and you would be tortured by remorse. We have within us, be we savage or civilized, the sense of what is right, and this will not permit us to enjoy in peace ill-gotten gains acquired against the laws of the society in which we live,--for well-constituted societies are modeled on the system God has ordained for the universe. In this respect societies have a divine origin. Man does not originate ideas, he invents no form; he answers to the eternal relations that surround him on all sides. Therefore, see what happens! Criminals going to the scaffold, and having it in their power to carry their secret with them, are compelled by the force of some mysterious power to make confessions before their heads are taken off. Therefore, Monsieur Minoret, if your mind is at ease, I go my way satisfied."
Minoret was so stupefied that he allowed the abbe to find his own way out. When he thought himself alone he flew into the fury of a choleric man; the strangest blasphemies escaped his lips, in which Ursula's name was mingled with odious language.
"Why, what has she done to you?" cried Zelie, who had slipped in on tiptoe after seeing the abbe out of the house.
For the first and only time in his life, Minoret, drunk with anger and driven to extremities by his wife's reiterated questions, turned upon her and beat her so violently that he was obliged, when she fell half-dead on the floor, to take her in his arms and put her to bed himself, ashamed of his act. He was taken ill and the doctor bled him twice; when he appeared again in the streets everybody noticed a great change in him. He walked alone, and often roamed the town as though uneasy.
When any one addressed him he seemed preoccupied in his mind, he who had never before had two ideas in his head. At last, one evening, he went up to Monsieur Bongrand in the Grand'Rue, the latter being on his way to take Ursula to Madame de Portenduere's, where the whist parties had begun again.
"Monsieur Bongrand, I have something important to say to my cousin," he said, taking the justice by the arm, "and I am very glad you should be present, for you can advise her."
They found Ursula studying; she rose, with a cold and dignified air, as soon as she saw Minoret.
"My child, Monsieur Minoret wants to speak to you on a matter of business," said Bongrand. "By the bye, don't forget to give me your certificates; I shall go to Paris in the morning and will draw your dividend and La Bougival's."
"Cousin," said Minoret, "our uncle accustomed you to more luxury than you have now."
"We can be very happy with very little money," she replied.
"I thought money might help your happiness," continued Minoret, "and I have come to offer you some, out of respect for the memory of my uncle."
"You had a natural way of showing respect for him," said Ursula, sternly; "you could have left his house as it was, and allowed me to buy it; instead of that you put it at a high price, hoping to find some hidden treasure in it."
"But," said Minoret, evidently troubled, "if you had twelve thousand francs a year you would be in a position to marry well."
"I have not got them."
"But suppose I give them to you, on condition of your buying an estate in Brittany near Madame de Portenduere,--you could then marry her son."
"Monsieur Minoret," said Ursula, "I have no claim to that money, and I cannot accept it from you. We are scarcely relations, still less are we friends. I have suffered too much from calumny to give a handle for evil-speaking. What have I done to deserve that money? What reason have you to make me such a present? These questions, which I have a right to ask, persons will answer as they see fit; some would consider your gift the reparation of a wrong, and, as such, I choose not to accept it. Your uncle did not bring me up to ignoble feelings. I can accept nothing except from friends, and I have no friendship for you."
"Then you refuse?" cried the colossus, into whose head the idea had never entered that a fortune could be rejected.
"I refuse," said Ursula.
"But what grounds have you for offering Mademoiselle Ursula such a fortune?" asked Bongrand, looking fixedly at Minoret. "You have an idea--have you an idea?--"
"Well, yes, the idea of getting her out of Nemours, so that my son will leave me in peace; he is in love with her and wants to marry her."
"Well, we'll see about it," said Bongrand, settling his spectacles.
"Give us time to think it over."
