In those days men were called _reformers_ or _pretended reformers_, according to the supposed earnestness of their religious opinions. When a person said _pretenders_ simply, he thereby proclaimed for himself an orthodoxy which refused to admit the bare idea of a possible reformation. This contemptuous expression wounded the marquis, and, playing upon the word, he replied that he had no fiancés in his house.[23] "I thought that Monsieur and Madame de Beuvre were affianced to the errors of Geneva," retorted the rector, with a sneering smile. "Have they procured a divorce from them, following the example of monsieur le marquis?" "Monsieur le recteur," said Bois-Doré, "this is no time to talk theology, and I admit that I understand nothing about it. Once, twice, will you join us, with or without heretics?" "As I have told you, monsieur le marquis, with them, it is impossible." "Very well, monsieur," retorted Bois-Doré, with a display of temper which he could not control, "that is as you choose; but, on those days when you do not deem me worthy to receive you in my house, you will, perhaps, do well not to come to my house to tell me so; for, as you are unwilling to enter, I am wondering why you came here, unless it was to insult those who do me the honor of being my guests." The rector was seeking what he called persecution; that is to say, he wished to irritate the marquis so as to put him in the wrong as between themselves. "As monsieur le marquis admitted all the people of my family to a merry-making," he replied, "I supposed that I was bidden like the rest. Indeed, I had imagined that this charming child, whose recovery you are celebrating, would need my ministry to be received into the bosom of the Church--a ceremony whereby the rejoicings should have been inaugurated perhaps." "My child has been brought up by a true Christian and a true priest, monsieur! He needs no reconciliation with God; and as to the Moorish woman, concerning whom you esteem yourself so fully informed, let me tell you that she is a better Christian than many people who pride themselves on their piety. Let your mind be at rest, therefore, and come to my house, I beg you, with an open countenance and no mental reservations, or do not come at all. That is my advice to you." "I propose to deal frankly with you, monsieur le marquis," replied the rector, raising his voice. "Witness the fact that I ask you plainly where Monsieur de Villareal is, and how it happens that I do not see him among your guests." This insidious and abrupt attack nearly unhorsed Bois-Doré. Luckily Guillaume d'Ars, who approached him at that moment, heard the question and took it upon himself to answer it. "You ask for Monsieur de Villareal," he said, bowing to Monsieur Poulain. "He left the château with me last evening."