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Paris, with a
look in which despite his great age there shone that sacred fire
which betokens pleasure in carrying out a fine action with some degree
of risk attached, he said:
'Come with me, sir, and while we're in the presence of the gaoler and
more particularly of the warders in the workhouse, be so good as to
refrain from commenting on what we shall see there.' M. Appert
realized he was dealing with a stalwart character: he followed the
venerable priest round the prison, the hospice and the workhouse,
asking a good many questions but despite some odd replies never
allowing himself to express the slightest sign of disapproval.
    The visit lasted several hours. Father Chélan invited M. Appert to
dinner with him, but the latter said he had letters to write: he did
not want to compromise his generous escort any further. Around three
o'clock the two gentlemen went off to finish inspecting the workhouse
and then returned to the
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prison. On the doorstep they found the gaoler, a bow-legged giant of a
man six foot tall; his unprepossessing face had become hideous with
terror.
    'Ah! sir,' he said to Father Chélan on catching sight of him, 'isn't this gentleman I see with you M. Appert?'
    'And what if he is?' replied the priest.
    'You see, since yesterday I've been under the strictest instructions
delivered from the prefect by a gendarme who must have galloped hard
through the night, not to let p into the prison.'
    'I concede, M. Noiroud, that this traveller I have with me is M.
Appert. Do you recognize my right to enter the prison at any hour of
the day or night, and to take with me anyone I please?'
    'Yes, Father Chélan,' said the gaoler in a low voice, hanging his
head like a bulldog reluctantly cowed into submission by fear of the
stick. 'But remember, Father Chélan, I've a wife and children, and if
anyone tells on me, I'll get the sack. My job's all I've got to live
off.'
    'I should be just as put out to lose mine,' replied the good priest, sounding more and more agitated.
    'But there's all the difference!' retorted the gaoler. 'You have an income of eight hundred pounds, * Father Chélan, everyone knows you do--a nice bit of property...'
    These are the events which, in numerous versions rich with commentary
and exaggeration, had for the past two days been stirring up all the
spiteful passions in the little town of Verrières. At this particular
moment they formed the subject matter of the little discussion which
M. de Rênal was having with his wife. That morning he had gone to the
priest's house taking with him M. Valenod, the master of the
workhouse, to express their dissatisfaction in the strongest possible
terms. Father Chélan had no one to protect him and he realized the
full implications of their words.
    'Well, gentlemen! I shall be the third priest in the neighbourhood to be stripped of his office at the age of eighty. * I've been here for fifty-six years; I've baptized almost all the
inhabitants of the town, which was scarcely more than a village when I
arrived. Every day I marry young folk whose grand-
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parents I married in times gone by. Verrières is my family, but I
said to myself on seeing the stranger: "This man from Paris may indeed
be a liberal, there are only too many of them around; but what harm
can he do our paupers and our prisons?"'
    When criticism of his conduct from M. de Rênal and especially M.
Valenod had reached a pitch of severity, the old priest had exclaimed
in a quavering voice:
'All right then, gentlemen, have me removed from office! It won't stop
me living in these parts. Everyone knows that fortyeight years ago I
inherited a field which brings in eight hundred pounds. I shall live
off this income. I don't put any money by in a position like mine,
gentlemen, and maybe that's why I'm not so afraid when there's talk of
dismissing me from it.'
    M. de Rênal was on very good terms with his wife, but, not knowing
what to reply to her