CHAPTER XXVI.
HOW BROTHER GORENFLOT AWOKE, AND THE RECEPTION HE MET WITH ATHIS CONVENT.
Chicot, after seeing with pleasure that Gorenflot still sleptsoundly, told M. Boutromet to retire and to take the light withhim, charging him not to say anything of his absence. Now M.Boutromet, having remarked that, in all transactions between themonk and Chicot, it was the latter who paid, had a great deal ofconsideration for him, and promised all he wished. Then, by thelight of the fire which still smouldered, he wrapped Gorenflotonce more in his frock, which he accomplished without elicitingany other signs of wakefulness than a few grunts, and afterwardsmaking a pillow of the table-cloth and napkins, lay down to sleepby his side. Daylight, when it came, succeeded in at last awakeningGorenflot, who sat up, and began to look about him, at the remainsof their last night's repast, and at Chicot, who, although alsoawake, lay pretending to snore, while, in reality, he watched.
"Broad daylight!" said the monk. "Corbleu, I must have passedthe night here. And the abbey! Oh, dear! How happy he is to sleepthus!" cried he, looking at Chicot. "Ah! he is not in my position,"and he sighed. "Shall I wake him to ask for advice? No, no, hewill laugh at me; I can surely invent a falsehood without him.But whatever I invent, it will be hard to escape punishment. Itis not so much the imprisonment, it is the bread and water Imind. Ah! if I had but some money to bribe the brother jailer."
Chicot, hearing this, adroitly slipped his purse from his pocketand put it under him. This precaution was not useless, for Gorenflot,who had been looking about him, now approached his friend softly,and murmuring:
"Were he awake, he would not refuse me a crown, but his sleepis sacred, and I will take it," advanced, and began feeling hispockets. "It is singular," said he, "nothing in his pockets.Ah! in his hat, perhaps."
While he searched there Chicot adroitly emptied out his money,and stuffed the empty purse into his breeches pocket.
"Nothing in the hat," said the monk. "Ah! I forgot," and thrustingin his hand, he drew from the pocket the empty purse. "Mon Dieu,"cried he, "empty! and who will pay the bill?"
This thought terrified him so much that he got up and made instantlyfor the door, through which he quickly disappeared. As he approachedthe convent, his fears grew strong, and seeing a concourse ofmonks standing talking on the threshold, he felt inclined tofly. But some of them approached to meet him; he knew flightwas hopeless, and resigned himself. The monks seemed at firstto hesitate to speak to him, but at last one said:
"Poor dear brother!"
Gorenflot sighed, and raised his eyes to Heaven.
"You know the prior waits for you?"
"Ah! mon Dieu!"
"Oh! yes; he ordered that you should be brought to him as soonas you came in."
"I feared it," said Gorenflot. And more dead than alive, he enteredthe convent, whose doors closed on him. They led him to the prior.Gorenflot did not dare to raise his eyes, finding himself alonewith his justly irritated superior.
"Ah! it is you at last," said the abbe.
"Reverend sir----"
"What anxiety you have given me."
"You are too good, my father," said Gorenflot, astonished at thisindulgent tone.
"You feared to come in after the scene of last night?"
"I confess it."
"Ah, dear brother, you have been very imprudent."
"Let me explain, father."
"There is no need of explanations; your sally----"
"Oh! so much the better," thought Gorenflot.
"I understand it perfectly. A moment of enthusiasm carried youaway; enthusiasm is a holy virtue, but virtues, exaggerated becomealmost vices, and the most honorable sentiments, when carriedto excess, are reprehensible."
"Pardon, my father," said Gorenflot, timidly, "but I do notunderstand. Of what sally do you speak?"
"Of yours last night."
"Out of the convent?"
"No; in it. I am as good a Catholic as you, but your audacityfrightened me."
Gorenflot was puzzled. "Was I audacious?" asked he.
"More than that--rash."
"Alas! you must pardon me, my father. I will endeavor to correctmyself."
"Yes; but meanwhile, I fear the consequences for you and for allof us. Had it passed among ourselves, it would have been nothing."
"How, is it known to others?"
"Doubtless; you know well there were more than a hundred laymenlistening to your discourse."
"My discourse!" said Gorenflot, more and more astonished.
"I allow it was fine, and that the universal applause must havecarried you on, but to propose to make a procession through thestreets of Paris, with a helmet on your head and a partisan onyour shoulder, appealing to all good Catholics, was rather toostrong, you will allow." Gorenflot looked bewildered.
"Now," continued the prior, "this religious fervor, which burnsso strongly in your heart, will injure you in Paris. I wish youtherefore to go and expend it in the provinces."
"An exile!" cried Gorenflot.
"If you remain here, much worse may happen to you, my dear brother."
"What?"
"Perpetual imprisonment, or even death."
Gorenflot grew frightfully pale; he could not understand how hehad incurred all this by getting tipsy in an inn, and passingthe night out of the convent.
"By submitting to this temporary exile, my dear brother, notonly will you escape this danger, but you will plant the bannerof our faith in the provinces, where such words are less dangerousthan here, under the eyes of the king. Set off at once, then,brother; perhaps the archers are already out to arrest you."
"The archers, I!" said Gorenflot.
"I advise you to go at once."
"It is easy to say 'go,' but how am I to live?"
"Oh! nothing more easy. You will find plenty of partisans whowill let you want for nothing. But go, in Heaven's name, anddo not come back till you are sent for." And the prior, afterembracing him, pushed him to the door. There he found all thecommunity waiting for him, to touch his hands or his robe.
"Adieu!" said one, embracing him, "you are a holy man; do notforget me in your prayers."
"I, a holy man!" thought Gorenflot.
"Adieu, brave champion of the faith," said another.
"Adieu, martyr," said a third, "the light will soon come."
Thus was he conducted to the outside of the convent, and as hewent away he exclaimed, "Devil take me, but either they are allmad, or I am."