'Not if I choose to listen to her history,' answered the queen, sharply, glad to cross her chaplain, whom she despised, whilst she sought to retain him about her. 'By all means,' said De Narbonne; 'but if your majesty will condescend to allow me to make a remark,--I am well, I may say very well, acquainted with M. Berthier, and his most amiable father M. Foulon, Bernay being in my diocese, and my desire ever being to make myself acquainted with all the influential laity in it. I have seen much of those two most estimable gentlemen, and I appreciate their urbanity of manner equally with their moral excellence.' 'That is rather a different account from what we have received from this girl,' said the queen; 'perhaps you are inclined to take too favourable a view of their conduct. What about Madame Berthier? Do you know her?' 'I cannot say that I know more of her than this, that she is a maniac, and as such is obliged to be kept in custody. Berthier himself told me once that she assaulted him with a knife.' 'Madame and Monsieur!' exclaimed Gabrielle; 'you do not know the reason of that. I was there when that took place; she defended me.' 'Defended you!' echoed the queen; 'who did she defend you from?' Gabrielle became crimson; she hung her head and whispered, 'from her husband.' 'This is insufferable,' said the bishop; 'Berthier is my friend, and I will answer for his conduct. If your majesty were to listen to all the slanders that are cast against their betters and superiors by the rag-tag of the lower orders, you would become a revolutionist.' 'Monsieur! Madame!' pleaded Gabrielle; 'ask Madame Berthier herself if it be not true; ask M. le Curé Lindet!' 'What!' the bishop turned upon her savagely, whilst his red face became purple,--'what about _him_?' 'Monsieur le Curé received me into his house when I ran away; he knows all about me, and about the truth of what I say.' 'Enough, amply enough to satisfy me,' said the prelate, in a loud voice, as he scowled upon the frightened girl; 'I know you now. Go from this terrace instantly!' He turned towards the queen, composed his face, and said, as calmly as he could, 'Your majesty must really not see any more of that unfortunate girl. On her account, I have had to inhibit one of the priests in my diocese,--the very priest, by the way, of whom the Cardinal de la Rochefoucauld speaks in his letter as a demagogue,--a priest elected by the malcontents to represent them in the States-General,--a man without principle and without morals,--a turbulent leveller, and a violent democrat.' 'Good, dear queen!' cried Gabrielle, casting herself once more at the feet of the royal lady; 'do not believe him, listen to me! Pray obtain the release of my dear mistress from the Bastille!' Marie Antoinette looked at her for one moment with coldness and with disgust, then turned her back upon her and walked away.