CHAPTER II

  PRUDENCE RECOMMENDED TO WISDOM.

  On this evening, the Bishop of D----, after his walk in the town, hadremained in his bed-room till a late hour. He was engaged on a heavywork on the "duties," which he unfortunately has left incomplete.He was still working at eight o'clock, writing rather uncomfortablyon small squares of paper, with a large book open on his knees,when Madame Magloire came in as usual to fetch the plate from thewall-cupboard near the bed. A moment after, the Bishop, feeling thatsupper was ready, and that his sister might be waiting, closed hisbook, rose from the table, and walked into the dining-room. It was anoblong apartment, as we have said, with a door opening on the street,and a window looking on the garden. Madame Magloire had laid the table,and while attending to her duties, was chatting with MademoiselleBaptistine. A lamp was on the table, which was close to the chimney, inwhich a tolerable fire was lighted.

  We can easily figure to ourselves the two females, who had bothpassed their sixtieth year: Madame Magloire, short, stout, and quick:Mademoiselle Baptistine, gentle, thin, and frail, somewhat taller thanher brother, dressed in a puce-colored silk gown, the fashionablecolor in 1806, which she had bought in Paris in that year and whichstill held out. Madame Magloire wore a white cap, on her neck a gold_jeannette,_ the only piece of feminine jewelry in the house, a verywhite handkerchief emerging from a black stuff gown with wide and shortsleeves, a calico red and puce checked apron, fastened round the waistwith a green ribbon, with a stomacher of the same stuff fastened withtwo pins at the top corners, heavy shoes and yellow stockings, likethe Marseilles women. Mademoiselle Baptistine's gown was cut after thefashion of 1806, short-waisted, with epaulettes on the sleeves, flapsand buttons, and she concealed her gray hair by a curling front called_? l'enfant_. Madame Magloire had an intelligent, quick, and kindlyair, though the unevenly raised corners of her mouth and the upper lip,thicker than the lower, gave her a somewhat rough and imperious air. Solong as Monseigneur was silent, she spoke to him boldly with a mingledrespect and liberty, but so soon as he spoke she passively obeyed, likeMademoiselle, who no longer replied, but restricted herself to obeyingand enduring. Even when she was young the latter was not pretty; shehad large blue eyes, flush with her head, and a long peaked nose;but all her face, all her person, as we said at the outset, breathedineffable kindness. She had always been predestined to gentleness, butfaith, hope, and charity, those three virtues that softly warm thesoul, had gradually elevated that gentleness to sanctity. Nature hadonly made her a lamb, and religion had made her an angel. Poor holywoman! sweet departed recollection!

  Mademoiselle afterwards narrated so many times what took place at theBishopric on this evening that several persons still living rememberthe slightest details. At the moment when the Bishop entered MadameMagloire was talking with some vivacity; she was conversing withMademoiselle on a subject that was familiar to her, and to which theBishop was accustomed--it was the matter of the frontdoor latch. Itappears that while going to purchase something for supper, MadameMagloire had heard things spoken of in certain quarters; people weretalking of an ill-looking prowler, that a suspicious vagabond hadarrived, who must be somewhere in the town, and that it would possiblybe an unpleasant thing for any one out late to meet him. The policewere very badly managed because the Prefect and the Mayor were notfriendly, and tried to injure each other by allowing things to happen.Hence wise people would be their own police, and be careful to closetheir houses _and lock their doors._

  Madame Magloire italicized the last sentence, but the Bishop had comefrom his room where it was rather cold, and was warming himself atthe fire while thinking of other matters; in fact, he did not pick upthe words which Madame Magloire had just let drop. She repeated them,and then Mademoiselle, who wished to satisfy Madame Magloire withoutdispleasing her brother, ventured to say timidly,--

  "Brother, do you hear what Madame Magloire is saying?"

  "I vaguely heard something," the Bishop answered; then he half turnedhis chair, placed his hand on his knees, and looked up at the oldservant with his cordial and easily-pleased face, which the fireillumined from below: "Well, what is it? what is it? are we in anygreat danger?"

  Then Madame Magloire told her story over again, while exaggerating itslightly, though unsuspicious of the fact. It would seem that a gypsy,a barefooted fellow, a sort of dangerous beggar, was in the town at themoment. He had tried to get a lodging at Jacquin Labarre's, who hadrefused to take him in. He had been seen prowling about the streets atnightfall, and was evidently a gallows bird, with his frightful face.

  "Is he really?" said the Bishop.

  This cross-questioning encouraged Madame Magloire; it seemed toindicate that the Bishop was beginning to grow alarmed, and hence shecontinued triumphantly,--

  "Yes, Monseigneur, it is so, and some misfortune will occur in the townthis night: everybody says so, and then the police are so badly managed[useful repetition]. Fancy living in a mountain town, and not evenhaving lanterns in the streets at nights! You go out and find yourselfin pitch darkness. I say, Monseigneur, and Mademoiselle says--"

  "I," the sister interrupted, "say nothing; whatever my brother does isright."

  Madame Magloire continued, as if no protest had been made,--

  "We say that this house is not at all safe, and that if Monseigneurpermits I will go to Paulin Musebois, the locksmith, and tell him toput the old bolts on the door again; I have them by me, and it will nottake a minute; and I say, Monseigneur, that we ought to have bolts ifit were only for this night, for I say that a door which can be openedfrom the outside by the first passer-by is most terrible: besides,Monseigneur is always accustomed to say "Come in," and in the middle ofthe night, oh, my gracious! there is no occasion to ask for permission."

  At this moment there was a rather loud rap at the front door.

  "Come in," said the Bishop.