The Abbé Chaperon was surprised at finding Madame Minoret at Ursule’s. The anxiety depicted on the thin, wrinkled face of the former postmistress naturally set the priest watching the two women alternately.
“Do you believe in revenants—ghosts—?” said Zélie to the curé.
“Do you believe in revenus—revenues—?” replied the priest, smiling.
“They are sly, all these people,” thought Zélie, “they want to diddle us. This old priest, the old justice of the peace and that young scamp of a Savinien are all agreed. There are no more dreams than I have hair in the palm of my hand.”
She left after making two curt, stiff bows.
“I know why Savinien went to Fontainebleau,” said Ursule to the Abbé Chaperon, informing him of the duel and begging him to use his influence in preventing it.
“And Madame Minoret has offered you her son’s hand?” said the old priest.
“Yes.”
“Minoret has probably confessed his crime to his wife,” added the curé.
The justice of the peace, arriving at that moment, heard of the proceedings and of the offer just made by Zélie, whose hatred of Ursule was well known to him, and he looked at the curé as much as to say: “Come out, I want to speak to you about Ursule without her hearing us.”
“Savinien shall know that you have refused
