M. GUITREL: “Doubtless, monsieur _le préfet_, doubtless. But His Eminence, so devoted to the spiritual interests of the diocese, perhaps considers that the prodigious crowd of souls around this poor girl is a token of that yearning after belief which torments the younger generation, a proof that faith is more living than ever among the masses, an example, in fact, which it would be well to present to the consideration of statesmen. And it is possible that, thinking thus, he may be in no hurry to cause the sign to cease, to suppress the proof and the example. It is possible …” M. LE PRÉFET: “... that he may make fun of everybody. He is quite capable of it.” M. GUITREL: “Oh! monsieur _le préfet_, there is no foundation for that assumption! But how much easier and more certain would my mission be, if, like the dove from the ark, I were the bearer of an olive branch, if I were authorised to say—oh! just in a whisper!—to Monseigneur, that the salary of the seven poor curés of the diocese, suspended by the former Minister of Religion, was restored!” M. LE PRÉFET: “Give, give, that’s it, isn’t it? I will think it over. … I will telegraph to Paris, and I will bring you the answer at Rondonneau junior’s. Good evening, monsieur _le diplomate_!” A week after the day of this secret conference Abbé Guitrel had successfully accomplished his mission. The prophetess of the Place Saint-Exupère, disowned by the archbishopric, abandoned by the clergy, abjured by _le Libéral_, kept on her side none save the two corresponding members of the academy of psychical research, one of whom regarded her as a subject worthy of study and the other as a dangerous charlatan. Freed from this mad woman, and delighted at the municipal elections, which had brought forth neither new measures nor new men, M. _le préfet_ Worms-Clavelin rejoiced from the bottom of his heart. XII M. Paillot was the bookseller at the corner of the Place Saint-Exupère and the Rue des Tintelleries. For the most part the houses which surrounded this square were ancient; those that leant against the church bore carved and painted signboards. Several had a pointed gable and a wooden frontage. One of these, which had kept its carved beams, was a gem admired by connoisseurs. The main joists were upheld by carved corbels, some in the shape of angels bearing shields, the others in the form of monks crouching low. To the left of the door, against a post, rose the mutilated figure of a woman, her brow encircled by a floreated crown. The townsfolk declared that this was Queen Marguerite. And the building was known by the name of Queen Marguerite’s house.