"In the first place, abbé, I pray you do not calumninate like that the seven capital sins, but speak of them with the deference which is their due. I have found them profoundly respected in general and in particular." "Indeed, it is not only gluttony that he glorifies,--he pushes his paradox to the glorification of the seven capital sins!" "Yes, dear abbé, all the seven, considered from a certain point of view." "That is monomania." "Will you be convinced, abbé?" "Of what?" "Of the possible excellence,--of the conditional existence of the worldly and philosophical excellence of the seven capital sins." "Really, doctor, do you take me for a child?" "Give me your evening on the twentieth of November; you will be convinced." "Come now, doctor, why always the twentieth of November?" "That is for me a prophetic day, and more, it is the anniversary of my birth, my dear abbé, so give me your evening on that day and you will not regret having come." "Very well, then, the twentieth of November, if my health--" "Permits you,--well understood, my dear abbé; but my experience tells me that you will be able to drag yourself to see me on that day." "What a man. He is capable of giving me a perfect example, in his big own damned person, of the seven capital sins." At this moment the door opened. It was on this door, more than once, that the glances of Abbé Ledoux had been turned with secret and growing impatience, during his conversation with the doctor. CHAPTER V. The abbé's housekeeper, having entered the chamber, handed a letter to her master, and, exchanging with him a look of intelligence, said: "It is very urgent, M. abbé." "Permit me, doctor?" said the holy man, before breaking the seal of the letter he held in his hand. "At your convenience, my dear abbé," replied the doctor, rising from his seat; "I must leave you now." "I pray you, just a word!" cried the abbé, who seemed especially anxious that the doctor should not depart so soon. "Give me time to glance over this letter, and I am at your service." "But, abbé, we have nothing more to say to each other. I have an urgent consultation, and the hour is--" "I implore you, doctor," insisted the abbé, breaking the seal and running his eyes over the letter he had just received, "in the name of Heaven, give me only five minutes, not more." Surprised at this singular persistence on the part of the abbé, the doctor hesitated to go out, when the invalid, discontinuing his reading of the letter, raised his eyes to heaven and exclaimed: "Ah, my God, my God!" "What is the matter?" "Ah, my poor doctor!" "Finish what you have to say." "Ah, doctor, it was Providence that sent you here." "Providence!" "Yes, because I find it in my power to render you a great service, perhaps." The physician appeared to be a little doubtful of the good-will of Abbé Ledoux, and accepted his words not without a secret distrust.