‘Gentlemen,’ said an old ecclesiastic of Évreux, ‘I was present last autumn during a conversation between the bishop’s _officiel_, M. Ponce, and an abbé, whom I see before me, but will not name,--an abbé, gentlemen, whom I have noticed to be exceedingly diligent in whipping up voters on the side of privilege. During the conversation at which I was present, the name of M. Lindet, curé of Bernay, was mentioned. The abbé here present stated that he had heard rumours of the intention of some of the clergy of the deanery of Bernay to make an attempt to nominate M. Lindet as a distinguished upholder of liberal opinions, and as a priest of much experience and of great influence. The officer of monseigneur, sitting yonder in the chair, replied to this that he had discussed the matter with the bishop, and that they had agreed to stop the nomination at all ventures. M. Ponce suggested an inhibition, and he said that the bishop had sent him to Bernay to find some excuse for serving one on the unfortunate curé of that parish. I address myself to his Lordship, our president. Let him deny this if he dares. If he does deny it, I shall at once mention the name of the abbé whom I heard in conversation with the _officiel_.’ A storm was instantly evoked: some clamoured for the name, others called on the bishop to answer, and others cried ‘Shame, shame!’ ‘Let the name of M. Lindet be put to the meeting?’ asked the same old priest. ‘His Lordship is sullen. Rise, all who vote for M. Lindet.’ Instantly five or six hundred electors sprang up and waved their hands above their heads. ‘Those in favour of M. Durand, stand up.’ There was a clatter, as the voters for the inhibited priest sat down, and about fifty stood up. ‘Take the numbers,’ rose in a shout from the others. Monseigneur de la Ferronnais held his superior by the arm, or the Bishop of Évreux would have left the room in a fury. ‘For Heaven’s sake!’ exclaimed he, ‘do be calm. Accept this vote, and you will get your own man in as the second delegate.’ ‘I will have nothing more to say to this assembly of ruffians,’ said the Bishop of Évreux, wrenching his hand away. ‘I beseech you remain here.’ ‘Not another moment,’ he said, rising. There burst from the mass of priests a shout: ‘He has vacated the chair!’ ‘Let the Bishop of Lisieux take it!’ cried the Abbé Lecerf. ‘The Bishop of Lisieux in the chair! Long live the new president!’ Monseigneur de la Ferronnais looked at the Bishop of Évreux. ‘What is to be done?’ he asked. ‘Take the chair, in God’s name,’ answered the president, thrusting it towards him; ‘I will not remain here another moment.’ ‘You must indeed remain,’ said the Bishop of Lisieux, ‘unless you are inclined to pass through all those infuriated priests to the door. There is no side entrance to be used as an easy mode of exit.’ Monseigneur de Narbonne scowled down the hall; his colleague was right, and he seated himself in the chair of his suffragan.