"And so Therese is here," said Fabien. He laughed a little to himself, and curled his moustache. "She had a spirit, had Therese, and her eyes were something to remember. _Parbleu_, though, a visit to that fever-hole is not too agreeable to contemplate." "Is Mademoiselle Veuillot your _fiancee_?" asked the cure, severely. Fabien laughed again. "_Fiancee_? No, _mon pere_, not altogether. We shall see." "It is possible that her interests also may have suffered." "Ah--yes--it is possible. But my uncle had not too great a love for Therese. I am curious to know how he has provided for her." "Yet I have understood that your disagreement with your uncle originated in your attachment for Mademoiselle Veuillot," said the cure, facing round upon him sharply. "Precisely," answered Fabien, airily. "But then--what will you?--I was young, foolish--the truth was that I could not endure my old uncle's _regime_ in the office. I heard of an opening in Rio Janeiro, and I worked my way out. On the voyage I wished myself back a hundred times, I promise you, but once there, somehow or other, I found myself on my feet--fortune favoured me. I was getting weary of it, though, and this news came to me just in time through M. l'Abbe, but it is not a bad place after all. One sees the world." And so M. Fabien rattled on, while the cure looked at him and listened with a growing discontent. Before he went to bed, he found it necessary to repeat to himself all the evidence he had gathered against M. Deshoulieres. There was no denying it; things bore a very dark appearance. A suspicious trust; an appointment said to have been kept in the face of his own knowledge to the contrary; letters suppressed; rumours that all was not right; a letter from M. l'Abbe at the Eveche: "M. Deshoulieres is a man well spoken of, but my own opinion of him does not coincide with that of the world." A letter from the Prefet: "I consider this doctor a pestilent, discontented individual, always trying to advance his own schemes. In effect, I doubt him." "M. le Prefet would not have spoken without reason," said M. le Cure to himself assuringly, as he folded up the letter. "After all, there are cases in the world when a man's face does not agree with his actions."