The priest had at once recognized in him an enemy, and, as he wished to remain master of the chateau and its young mistress, he temporized, feeling sure of victory in the end. By chance he had discovered the _liaison_ between Julien and Gilberte, and his one idea was to break it off by no matter what means. He came to see Jeanne one day towards the end of the wet, mild winter, and, after a long talk on the mystery of life, he asked her to unite with him in fighting against and destroying the wickedness which was in her own family, and so save two souls which were in danger. She asked him what he meant. "The hour has not come for me to reveal all to you," he replied; "but I will see you again soon," and with that he abruptly left her. He came again in a few days, and spoke in vague terms of a disgraceful connection between people whose conduct ought to be irreproachable. It was the duty, he said, of those who were aware of what was going on, to use every means to put an end to it. He used all sorts of lofty arguments, and then, taking Jeanne's hand, adjured her to open her eyes, to understand and to help him. This time Jeanne saw what he meant, but terrified at the thought of all the trouble that might be brought to her home, which was now so peaceful, she pretended not to know to what he was alluding. Then he hesitated no longer, but spoke in terms there could be no misunderstanding. "I am going to perform a very painful duty, Madame la comtesse, but I cannot leave it undone. The position I hold forbids me to leave you in ignorance of the sin you can prevent. Learn that your husband cherishes a criminal affection for Madame de Fourville." Jeanne only bent her head in feeble resignation. "What do you intend to do?" asked the priest. "What do you wish me to do, Monsieur l'abbe?" she murmured. "Throw yourself in the way as an obstacle to this guilty love," he answered, violently. She began to cry, and said in a broken voice: "But he has deceived me before with a servant; he wouldn't listen to me; he doesn't love me now; he ill-treats me if I manifest any desire that does not please him, so what can I do?" The cure did not make any direct answer to this appeal. "Then you bow before this sin! You submit to it!" he exclaimed. "You consent to and tolerate adultery under your own roof! The crime is being perpetrated before your eyes, and you refuse to see it! Are you a Christian woman? Are you a wife and a mother?" "What would you have me do?" she sobbed. "Anything rather than allow this sin to continue," he replied. "Anything, I tell you. Leave him. Flee from this house which has been defiled." "But I have no money, Monsieur l'abbe," she replied. "And I am not brave now like I used to be. Besides, how can I leave without any proofs of what you are saying? I have not the right to do so." The priest rose to his feet, quivering with indignation.