“I tell you that you’re a second St. Chrysostom father,” repeated the princess with enthusiasm; “like him, you deserve the name of Golden Mouth.”

“Stuff, madame!” said Rodin, brutally, shrugging his shoulders; “my lips are too pale, my teeth too black, for a mouth of gold.  You must be only joking.”

“But, father—­”

“No, madame, you will not catch old birds with chaff,” replied Rodin, harshly.  “I hate compliments, and I never pay them.”

“Your modesty must pardon me, father,” said the princess, humbly; “I could not resist the desire to express to you my admiration, for, as you almost predicted, or at least foresaw, two members of the Rennepont family, have, within the last few months, resigned all claim to the inheritance.”

Rodin looked at Madame de Saint-Dizier with a softened and approving air, as he heard her thus describe the position of the two defunct claimants.  For, in Rodin’s view of the case, M. Hardy, in consequence of his donation and his suicidal asceticism, belonged no longer to this world.

The lady continued:  “One of these men, a wretched artisan, has been led to his ruin by the exaggeration of his vices.  You have brought the other into the path of salvation, by carrying out his loving and tender qualities.  Honor, then to your foresight, father! for you said that you would make use of the passions to attain your end.”

“Do not boast too soon,” said Rodin, impatiently.  “Have you forgotten your niece, and the Hindoo, and the daughters of Marshal Simon?  Have they also made a Christian end, or resigned their claim to share in this inheritance?”

“No, doubtless.”

“Hence, you see, madame, we should not lose time in congratulating ourselves on the past, but make ready for the future.  The great day approaches.  The first of June is not far off.  Heaven grant we may not see the four surviving members of the family continue to live impenitent up to that period, and so take possession of this enormous property—­the source of perdition in their hands—­but productive of the glory of the Church in the hands of our Company!”

“True, father!”

“By the way, you were to see your lawyers on the subject of your niece?”

“I have seen them, father.  However uncertain may be the chance of which I spoke, it is worth trying.  I shall know to-day, I hope, if it is legally possible.”

“Perhaps then,—­in the new condition of life to which she would be reduced, we might find means to effect her conversion,” said Rodin, with a strange and hideous smile; “until now, since she has been so fatally brought in contact with the Oriental, the happiness of these two pagans appears bright and changeless as the diamond.  Nothing bites into it, not even Faringhea’s tooth.  Let us hope that the Lord will wreak justice on their vain and guilty felicity!”

This conversation was here interrupted by Father d’Aigrigny, who entered the room with an air of triumph, and exclaimed, “Victory!”