by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER XXI. THE CHANGE.
Before again addressing Gabriel, Father d'Aigrigny carefully reflected;and his countenance, lately so disturbed, became gradually once moreserene. He appeared to meditate and calculate the effects of theeloquence he was about to employ, upon an excellent and safe theme,which the socius struck with the danger of the situation, had suggestedin a few lines rapidly written with a pencil, and which, in his despair,the reverend father had at first neglected. Rodin resumed his post ofobservation near the mantelpiece, on which he leaned his elbow,after casting at Father d'Aigrigny a glance of disdainful and angrysuperiority, accompanied by a significant shrug of the shoulders.
After this involuntary manifestation, which was luckily not perceivedby Father d'Aigrigny, the cadaverous face of the socius resumed itsicy calmness, and his flabby eyelids, raised a moment with anger andimpatience, fell, and half-veiled his little, dull eyes. It must beconfessed that Father d'Aigrigny, notwithstanding the ease and eleganceof his speech, notwithstanding the seduction of his exquisite manners,his agreeable features, and the exterior of an accomplished and refinedman of the world, was often subdued and governed by the unpityingfirmness, the diabolical craft and depth of Rodin, the old, repulsive,dirty, miserably dressed man, who seldom abandoned his humble part ofsecretary and mute auditor. The influence of education is so powerful,that Gabriel, notwithstanding the formal rupture he had just provoked,felt himself still intimidated in presence of Father d'Aigrigny, andwaited with painful anxiety for the answer of the reverend father to hisexpress demand to be released from his old vows. His reverence having,doubtless, regularly laid his plan of attack, at length broke silence,heaved a deep sigh, gave to his countenance, lately so severe andirritated, a touching expression of kindness, and said to Gabriel, in anaffectionate voice: "Forgive me, my dear son, for having kept silenceso long; but your abrupt determination has so stunned me, and has raisedwithin me so many painful thoughts, that I have had to reflect for somemoments, to try and penetrate the cause of this rupture, and I thinkI have succeeded. You have well considered, my dear son, the seriousnature of the step you are taking?"
"Yes, father."
"And you have absolutely decided to abandon the Society, even against mywill?"
"It would be painful to me, father--but I must resign myself to it."
"It should be very painful to you, indeed, my dear son; for you took theirrevocable vow freely, and this vow, according to our statutes, bindsyou not to quit the Society, unless with the consent of your superiors."
"I did not then know, father, the nature of the engagement I took. Moreenlightened now, I ask to withdraw myself; my only desire is to obtaina curacy in some village far from Paris. I feel an irresistible vocationfor such humble and useful functions. In the country, there is so muchmisery, and such ignorance of all that could contribute to amelioratethe condition of the agricultural laborer, that his existence is asunhappy as that of a negro slave; for what liberty has he? and whatinstruction? Oh! it seems to me, that, with God's help, I might, as avillage curate, render some services to humanity. It would therefore bepainful to me, father, to see you refuse--"
"Be satisfied, my son," answered Father d'Aigrigny; "I will no longerseek to combat your desire to separate yourself from us."
"Then, father, you release me from my vows?"
"I have not the power to do so, my dear son; but I will writeimmediately to Rome, to ask the necessary authority from our general."
"I thank you, father."
"Soon, my dear son, you will be delivered from these bonds, which youdeem so heavy; and the men you abandon will not the less continue topray for you, that God may preserve you from still greater wanderings.You think yourself released with regard to us, my dear son; but we donot think ourselves released with regard to you. It is not thus that wecan get rid of the habit of paternal attachment. What would you have? Welook upon ourselves as bound to our children, by the very benefits withwhich we have loaded them. You were poor, and an orphan; we stretchedout our arms to you, as much from the interest which you deserved, mydear son, as to spare your excellent adopted mother too great a burden."
"Father," said Gabriel, with suppressed emotion, "I am not ungrateful."
"I wish to believe so, my dear son. For long years, we gave to you, asto our beloved child, food for the body and the soul. It pleases you nowto renounce and abandon us. Not only do we consent to it--but now that Ihave penetrated the true motives of your rupture with us, it is my dutyto release you from your vow."
"Of what motives do you speak, Father?"
"Alas! my dear son, I understand your fears. Dangers menace us--you knowit well."
"Dangers, father?" cried Gabriel.
"It is impossible, my dear son, that you should not be aware that,since the fall of our legitimate sovereigns, our natural protectors,revolutionary impiety becomes daily more and more threatening. Weare oppressed with persecutions. I can, therefore, comprehend andappreciate, my dear son, the motive which under such circumstances,induces you to separate from us."
"Father!" cried Gabriel, with as much indignation as grief, "you do notthink that of me--you cannot think it."
Without noticing the protestations of Gabriel, Father d'Aigrignycontinued his imaginary picture of the dangers of the Company, which,far from being really in peril, was already beginning secretly torecover its influence.
"Oh! if our Company were now as powerful as it was some years ago,"resumed the reverend father; "if it were still surrounded by the respectand homage which are due to it from all true believers--in spite of theabominable calumnies with which we are assailed--then, my dear son, weshould perhaps have hesitated to release you from your vows, and haverather endeavored to open your eyes to the light, and save you fromthe fatal delusion to which you are a prey. But now that we are weak,oppressed, threatened on every side, it is our duty, it is an act ofcharity, not to force you to share in perils from which you have theprudence to wish to withdraw yourself."
So, saying, Father d'Aigrigny cast a rapid glance at his socius,who answered with a nod of approbation, accompanied by a movement ofimpatience that seemed to say: "Go on! go on!"
Gabriel was quite overcome. There was not in the whole world a heartmore generous, loyal, and brave than his. We may judge of what hemust have suffered, on hearing the resolution he had come to thusmisinterpreted.
"Father," he resumed, in an agitated voice, whilst his eyes filledwith tears, "your words are cruel and unjust. You know that I am not acoward."
"No," said Rodin, in his sharp, cutting voice, addressing Fatherd'Aigrigny, and pointing to Gabriel with a disdainful look; "your dearson is only prudent."
These words from Rodin made Gabriel start; a slight blush colored hispale cheeks; his large and blue eyes sparkled with a generous anger;then, faithful to the precepts of Christian humility and resignation,he conquered this irritable impulse, hung down his head, and, too muchagitated to reply, remained silent, and brushed away an unseen tear.This tear did not escape the notice of the socius. He saw in it nodoubt, a favorable symptom, for he exchanged a glance of satisfactionwith Father d'Aigrigny. The latter was about to touch on a question ofgreat interest, so, notwithstanding his self-command, his voice trembledslightly; but encouraged, or rather pushed on by a look from Rodin,who had become extremely attentive, he said to Gabriel: "Another motiveobliges us not to hesitate in releasing you from your vow, my dear son.It is a question of pure delicacy. You probably learned yesterdayfrom your adopted mother, that you will perhaps be called upon to takepossession of an inheritance, of which the value is unknown."
Gabriel raised his head hastily and said to Father d'Aigrigny: "As Ihave already stated to M. Rodin, my adopted mother only talked of herscruples of conscience, and I was completely ignorant of the existenceof the inheritance of which you speak."
The expression of indifference with which the young priest pronouncedthese last words, was remarked by Rodin.
"Be it so," replied Father d'Aigrigny. "Yo
u were not aware of it--Ibelieve you--though all appearances would tend to prove the contrary--toprove, indeed, that the knowledge of this inheritance was notunconnected with your resolution to separate from us."
"I do not understand you, Father."
"It is very simple. Your rupture with us would then have two motives.First, we are in danger, and you think it prudent to leave us--"
"Father!"
"Allow me to finish, my dear son, and come to the second motive. If Iam deceived, you can tell me so. These are the facts. Formerly, on thehypothesis that your family, of which you knew nothing, might one dayleave you some property, you made, in return for the care bestowed onyou by the Company, a free gift of all you might hereafter possess, notto us--but to the poor, of whom we are the born shepherds."
"Well, father?" asked Gabriel, not seeing to what this preamble tended.
"Well, my dear son--now that you are sure of enjoying a competence, youwish, no doubt, by separating from us, to annul this donation made underother circumstances."
"To speak plainly, you violate your oath, because we are persecuted,and because you wish to take back your gifts," added Rodin, in asharp voice, as if to describe in the clearest and plainest manner thesituation of Gabriel with regard to the Society.
At this infamous accusation, Gabriel could only raise his hands and eyesto heaven, and exclaim, with an expression of despair, "Oh, heaven!"
Once more exchanging a look of intelligence with Rodin, Fatherd'Aigrigny said to him, in a severe tone, as if reproaching him for histoo savage frankness: "I think you go too far. Our dear son could onlyhave acted in the base and cowardly manner you suggest, had he known hisposition as an heir; but, since he affirms the contrary, we are bound tobelieve him--in spite of appearances."
"Father," said Gabriel, pale, agitated trembling, and with halfsuppressed grief and indignation, "I thank you, at least, for havingsuspended your judgment. No, I am not a coward; for heaven is mywitness, that I knew of no danger to which the Society was exposed. Noram I base and avaricious; for heaven is also my witness, that only atthis moment I learn from you, father, that I may be destined to inheritproperty, and--"
"One word, my dear son. It is quite lately that I became informed ofthis circumstance, by the greatest chance in the world," said Fatherd'Aigrigny, interrupting Gabriel; "and that was thanks to some familypapers which your adopted mother had given to her confessor, and whichwere entrusted to us when you entered our college. A little before yourreturn from America, in arranging the archives of the Company, your fileof papers fell into the hands of our father-attorney. It was examined,and we thus learned that one of your paternal ancestors, to whom thehouse in which we now are belonged, left a will which is to be opened today at noon. Yesterday, we believed you one of us; our statutes commandthat we should possess nothing of our own; you had corroborated thosestatutes, by a donation in favor of the patrimony of the poor--which weadminister. It was no longer you, therefore, but the Company, which, inmy person, presented itself as the inheritor in your place, furnishedwith your titles, which I have here ready in order. But now, my clearson, that you separate from us, you must present yourself in your ownname. We came here as the representatives of the poor, to whom in formerdays you piously abandoned whatever goods might fall to your share. Now,on the contrary, the hope of a fortune changes your sentiments. You arefree to resume your gifts."
Gabriel had listened to Father d'Aigrigny with painful impatience. Atlength he exclaimed. "Do you mean to say, father, that you think mecapable of canceling a donation freely made, in favor of the Company, towhich I am indebted for my education? You believe me infamous enough tobreak my word, in the hope of possessing a modest patrimony?"
"This patrimony, my dear, son, may be small; but it may also beconsiderable."
"Well, father! if it were a king's fortune," cried Gabriel, with proudand noble indifference, "I should not speak otherwise--and I have,I think, the right to be believed listen to my fixed resolution. TheCompany to which I belong runs, you say, great dangers. I will inquireinto these dangers. Should they prove threatening--strong in thedetermination which morally separates me from you--I will not leave youtill I see the end of your perils. As for the inheritance, of which youbelieve me so desirous, I resign it to you formally, father, as I oncefreely promised. My only wish is, that this property may be employedfor the relief of the poor. I do not know what may be the amount of thisfortune, but large or small, it belongs to the Company, because I havethereto pledged my word. I have told you, father, that my chiefdesire is to obtain a humble curacy in some poor village--poor, aboveall--because there my services will be most useful. Thus, father, when aman, who never spoke falsehood in his life, affirms to you, that he onlysighs for so humble an existence, you ought, I think, to believe himincapable of snatching back, from motives of avarice, gifts alreadymade."
Father d'Aigrigny had now as much trouble to restrain his joy, as hebefore had to conceal his terror. He appeared, however, tolerably calm,and said to Gabriel: "I did not expect less from you, my dear son."
Then he made a sign to Rodin, to invite him to interpose. The latterperfectly understood his superior. He left the chimney, drew nearto Gabriel, and leaned against the table, upon which stood paper andinkstand. Then, beginning mechanically to beat the tattoo with the tipsof his coarse fingers, in all their array of flat and dirty nails, hesaid to Father d'Aigrigny: "All this is very fine! but your dear songives you no security for the fulfilment of his promise except anoath--and that, we know, is of little value."
"Sir!" cried Gabriel
"Allow me," said Rodin, coldly. "The law does not acknowledge ourexistence and therefore can take no cognizance of donations made infavor of the Company. You might resume to-morrow what you are pleased togive us to-day."
"But my oath, sir!" cried Gabriel.
Rodin looked at him fixedly, as he answered: "Your oath? Did you notswear eternal obedience to the Company, and never to separate fromus?--and of what weight now are these oaths?"
For a moment Gabriel was embarrassed; but, feeling how false was thislogic, he rose, calm and dignified, went to seat himself at the desk,took up a pen, and wrote as follows:
"Before God, who sees and hears me, and in the presence of you, Fatherd'Aigrigny and M. Rodin, I renew and confirm, freely and voluntarily,the absolute donation made by me to the Society of Jesus, in the personof the said Father d'Aigrigny, of all the property which may hereafterbelong to me, whatever may be its value. I swear, on pain of infamy, toperform tis irrevocable promise, whose accomplishment I regard, in mysoul and conscience, as the discharge of a debt, and the fulfilment of apious duty.
"This donation having for its object the acknowledgment of pastservices, and the relief of the poor, no future occurrences can atall modify it. For the very reason that I know I could one day legallycancel the present free and deliberate act, I declare, that if ever Iwere to attempt such a thing, under any possible circumstances, I shoulddeserve the contempt and horror of all honest people.
"In witness whereof I have written this paper, on the 13th of February,1832, in Paris, immediately before the opening of the testament of oneof my paternal ancestors.
"GABRIEL DE RENNEPONT."
As he rose, the young priest delivered this document to Rodin, withoututtering a word. The socius read it attentively, and, still impassible,answered, as he looked at Gabriel: "Well, it is a written oath--that isall."
Gabriel dwelt stupefied at the audacity of Rodin, who ventured to tellhim, that this document, in which he renewed his donation in so noble,generous, and spontaneous a manner, was not all sufficient. Thesocius was the first again to break the silence, and he said to Fatherd'Aigrigny, with his usual cool impudence. "One of two things must be.Either your dear son means to render his donation absolutely valuableand irrevocable,--or--"
"Sir," exclaimed Gabriel, interrupting him, and hardly able to restrainhimself, "spare yourself and me such a shameful supposition."
"Well, then," resum
ed Rodin, impassible as ever, "as you are perfectlydecided to make this donation a serious reality, what objection can youhave to secure it legally?"
"None, sir," said Gabriel, bitterly, "since my written and sworn promisewill not suffice you."
"My dear son," said Father d'Aigrigny, affectionately, "if this werea donation for my own advantage, believe me I should require no bettersecurity than your word. But here I am, as it were, the agent of theSociety, or rather the trustee of the poor, who will profit by yourgenerosity. For the sake of humanity, therefore, we cannot secure thisgift by too many legal precautions, so that the unfortunate objects ofour care may have certainty instead of vague hopes to depend upon. Godmay call you to him at any moment, and who shall say that your heirswill be so ready to keep the oath you have taken?"
"You are right, father," said Gabriel, sadly; "I had not thought of thecase of death, which is yet so probable."
Hereupon, Samuel opened the door of the room, and said: "Gentlemen, thenotary has just arrived. Shall I show him in? At ten o'clock precisely,the door of the house will be opened."
"We are the more glad to see the notary," said Rodin, "as we just happento have some business with him. Pray ask him to walk in."
"I will bring him to you instantly," replied Samuel, as he went out.
"Here is a notary," said Rodin to Gabriel. "If you have still the sameintentions, you can legalize your donation in presence of this publicofficer, and thus save yourself from a great burden for the future."
"Sir," said Gabriel, "happen what may, I am as irrevocably engaged bythis written promise, which I beg you to keep, father"--and he handedthe paper to Father d'Aigrigny "as by the legal document, which I amabout to sign," he added, turning to Rodin.
"Silence, my dear son," said Father d'Aigrigny; "here is the notary,"just as the latter entered the room.
During the interview of the administrative officer with Rodin, Gabriel,and Father d'Aigrigny, we shall conduct the reader to the interior ofthe walled-up house.