CHAPTER IX.
THE BROTHER DESCRIBED BY THE SISTER.
To give an idea of the domestic life of the Bishop of D----, and themanner in which these two saintly women subordinated their actions,their thoughts, even their feminine instincts, which were easilystartled, to the habits and intentions of the Bishop, before herequired to express them in words, we cannot do better than copy herea letter from Mlle Baptistine to the Viscountess de Boischevron, herfriend of childhood. This letter is in our possession.
"D----, 16th Dec., 18----.
"MY DEAR MADAME,--Not a day passes in which we do not talk about you.That is our general habit, but there is an extra reason at present.Just imagine that, in washing and dusting the ceilings and walls,Madame Magloire has made a discovery, and now our two rooms paperedwith old white-washed paper would not disgrace a chateau like yours.Madame Magloire has torn down all the paper, and there are things underit. My sitting-room, in which there was no furniture, and in which weused to hang up the linen to dry, is fifteen feet in height, eighteenwide, and has a ceiling which was once gilded, and rafters, as in yourhouse. It was covered with canvas during the time this mansion was anhospital. But it is my bed-room, you should see; Madame Magloire hasdiscovered, under at least ten layers of paper, paintings which, thoughnot excellent, are endurable. There is Telemachus dubbed a knight byMinerva; and there he is again in the gardens: I forget their names,but where the Roman ladies only went for a single night. What can Itell you? I have Roman ladies (_here an illegible word_), and so on.Madame Magloire has got it all straight. This summer she intends torepair a little damage, re-varnish it all, and my bed-room will be areal museum. She has also found in a corner of the garret two consolesin the old fashion; they want twelve francs to regild them, but it isbetter to give that sum to the poor: besides, they are frightfullyugly, and I should prefer a round mahogany table.
"I am very happy, for my brother is so good; he gives all he has to thesick and the poor, and we are often greatly pressed. The country ishard in winter, and something must be done for those who are in want.We are almost lighted and warmed, and, as you can see, that is a greatcomfort. My brother has peculiar habits; when he does talk, he says'that a bishop should be so.' Just imagine that the house door is neverclosed: any one who likes can come in, and is at once in my brother'spresence. He fears nothing, not even night; and he says that is his wayof showing his bravery. He does not wish me to feel alarmed for him, orfor Madame Magloire to do so; he exposes himself to all dangers, anddoes not wish us to appear as if we even noticed it. We must understandhim. He goes out in the rain, he wades through the water, and travelsin winter. He is not afraid of the night, suspicious roads, orencounters. Last year he went all alone into a country of robbers, forhe would not take us with him. He stayed away a whole fortnight, andfolk thought him dead, but he came back all right, and said, 'Here'sthe way in which I was robbed,' and he opened a chest full of all thetreasures of Embrun Cathedral, which the robbers had given him. Thattime I could not refrain from scolding him a little, but was carefulonly to speak when the wheels made a noise, so that no one could hearme.
"At first I said to myself; there is no danger that checks him, andhe is terrible; but at present I have grown accustomed to it. I makeMadame Magloire a sign not to annoy him, and he risks his life as hepleases. I carry off Magloire, go to my bed-room, pray for him, andfall asleep. I am tranquil because I know that if any harm happenedto him it would be the death of me. I shall go to heaven with mybrother and my bishop. Madame Magloire has had greater difficulty thanmyself in accustoming herself to what she calls his imprudence, butat present she has learned to put up with it. We both pray; we areterrified together, and fall asleep. If the Fiend were to enter thehouse no one would try to stop him, and after all what have we to fearin this house? There is always some one with us who is the stronger,the demon may pass by, but our Lord lives in it. That is enough for me,and my brother no longer requires to say a word to me. I understandhim without his speaking, and we leave ourselves in the hands ofProvidence, for that is the way in which you must behave to a man whohas grandeur in his soul.
"I have questioned my brother about the information you requireconcerning the De Faux family. You are aware that he knows everything,and what a memory he has, for he is still a good Royalist. It is reallya very old Norman family belonging to the Generalty of Caen. Fivehundred years ago there were a Raoul, a John, and a Thomas de Faux, whowere gentlemen, and one of them Seigneur of Rochefort. The last was GuyStephen Alexander, who was Major-general, and something in the BrittanyLight Horse: his daughter, Maria Louisa, married Adrian Charles deGramont, son of Duke Louis de Gramont, Peer of France, Colonel of theFrench Guards, and Lieutenant-general in the army. The name is writtenFaux, Fauq, and Faouq.
"My dear madam, recommend us to the prayers of your holy relative theCardinal. As for your dear Sylvanie, she has done well in not wastingthe few moments she passes by your side in writing to me. She is well,works according to your wishes, and loves me still: that is all Idesire. Her souvenir sent me through you safely reached me, and I amdelighted at it. My health is not bad, and yet I grow thinner everyday. Good-by, my paper is running out and compels me to break off. Athousand kind regards from your Baptistine.
"P.S. Your little nephew is delightful: do you know that he is nearlyfive years of age? Yesterday he saw a horse pass with knee-caps on,and he said, 'What has he got on his knees?' He is such a dear child.His little brother drags an old broom about the room like a coach, andcries, 'Hu!'"
As may be seen from this letter, the two women managed to yield tothe Bishop's ways, with the genius peculiar to woman, who comprehendsa man better than he does himself. The Bishop of D----, beneath thecandid, gentle air which never broke down, at times did grand, bold,and magnificent things, without even appearing to suspect the fact.They trembled, but let him alone. At times Madame Magloire would hazarda remonstrance beforehand, but never during or after the deed. Theynever troubled him either by word or sign when he had once begun anaffair. At certain moments, without his needing to mention the fact, orperhaps when he was not conscious of it, so perfect was his simplicity,they vaguely felt that he was acting episcopally, and at such timesthey were only two shadows in the house. They served him passively, andif disappearance were obedience, they disappeared. They knew, with anadmirable intuitive delicacy, that certain attentions might vex him,and hence, though they might believe him in peril, they understood, Iwill not say his thoughts, but his nature, and no longer watched overhim. They intrusted him to God. Moreover, Baptistine said, as we havejust read, that her brother's death would be her death. Madame Magloiredid not say so, but she knew it.