Father d'Aigrigny was completely discouraged and broken down; this terrible blow had destroyed all life and energy within him.He threw himself back in an arm-chair, quite overcome.During the preceding dialogue, Rodin was standing humbly near the door, with his old hat in his hand.Two or three times, at certain passages in the conversation between Father d'Aigrigny and the princess, the cadaverous face of the socius, whose wrath appeared to be concentrated, was slightly flushed, and his flappy eyelids were tinged with red, as if the blood mounted in consequence of an interior struggle; but, immediately after, his dull countenance resumed its pallid blue.
"I must write instantly to Rome, to announce this defeat, which has become an event of the first importance, because it overthrows immense hopes," said Father d'Aigrigny, much depressed.
The reverend father had remained seated; pointing to a table, he said to Rodin, with an abrupt and haughty air:
"Write!"
The socius placed his hat on the ground, answered with a respectful bow the command, and with stooping head and slanting walk, went to seat himself on a chair, that stood before a desk.Then, taking pen and paper, he waited, silent and motionless, for the dictation of his superior.
"With your permission, princess?" said Father d'Aigrigny to Madame de Saint-Dizier.The latter answered by an impatient wave of the hand, as if she reproached him for the formal demand at such a time.The reverend father bowed, and dictated these words in a hoarse and hollow voice: "All our hopes, which of late had become almost certainties, have been suddenly defeated.The affair of the Rennepont inheritance, in spite of all the care and skill employed upon it, has completely and finally failed.At the point to which matters had been brought, it is unfortunately worse than a failure; it is a most disastrous event for the Society, which was clearly entitled to this property, fraudulently withdrawn from a confiscation made in our favor.My conscience at least bears witness, that, to the last moment, I did all that was possible to defend and secure our rights.But I repeat, we must consider this important affair as lost absolutely and forever, and think no more about it."
Thus dictating, Father d'Aigrigny's back was turned towards Rodin.At a sudden movement made by the socius, in rising and throwing his pen upon the table, instead of continuing to write, the reverend father turned round, and, looking at Rodin with profound astonishment, said to him:
"Well! what are you doing?"
"It is time to end this--the man is mad!" said Rodin to himself, as he advanced slowly towards the fireplace.
"What! you quit your place--you cease writing?" said the reverend father, in amazement.Then, addressing the princess, who shared in his astonishment, he added, as he glanced contemptuously at the socius, "He is losing his senses."
"Forgive him," replied Mme.de Saint-Dizier; "it is, no doubt, the emotion caused by the ruin of this affair."
"Thank the princess, return to your place, and continue to write," said Father d'Aigrigny to Rodin, in a tone of disdainful compassion, as, with imperious finger, he pointed to the table.
The socius, perfectly indifferent to this new order, approached the fireplace, drew himself up to his full height as he turned his arched back, planted himself firmly on his legs, stamped on the carpet with the heel of his clumsy, greasy shoes, crossed his hands beneath the flaps of his old, spotted coat, and, lifting his head, looked fixedly at Father d'Aigrigny.The socius had not spoken a word, but his hideous countenance, now flushed, suddenly revealed such a sense of his superiority, and such sovereign contempt for Father d'Aigrigny, mingled with so calm and serene a daring, that the reverend father and the princess were quite confounded by it.They felt themselves overawed by this little old man, so sordid and so ugly.Father d'Aigrigny knew too well the customs of the Company, to believe his humble secretary capable of assuming so suddenly these airs of transcendent superiority without a motive, or rather, without a positive right.Late, too late, the reverend father perceived, that this subordinate agent might be partly a spy, partly an experienced assistant, who, according to the constitutions of the Order, had the power and mission to depose and provisionally replace, in certain urgent cases, the incapable person over whom he was stationed as a guard.The reverend father was not deceived.From the general to the provincials, and to the rectors of the colleges, all the superior members of the Order have stationed near them, often without their knowledge, and in apparently the lowest capacities, men able to assume their functions at any given moment, and who, with this view, constantly keep up a direct correspondence with Rome.