Though they met in consultation, or in society, it was difficult
to find an hour of confidential solitude when, sitting with their feet
on the fire-dogs and their head resting on the back of an armchair, two
men tell each other their secrets. At last, seven years later, after the
Revolution of 1830, when the mob invaded the Archbishop's residence,
when Republican agitators spurred them on to destroy the gilt crosses
which flashed like streaks of lightning in the immensity of the ocean of
houses; when Incredulity flaunted itself in the streets, side by side
with Rebellion, Bianchon once more detected Desplein going into
Saint-Sulpice. The doctor followed him, and knelt down by him without the
slightest notice or demonstration of surprise from his friend. They both
attended this mass of his founding.
"Will you tell me, my dear fellow," said Bianchon, as they left the
church, "the reason for your fit of monkishness? I have caught you three
times going to mass---- You! You must account to me for this mystery,
explain such a flagrant disagreement between your opinions and your
conduct. You do not believe in God, and yet you attend mass? My dear
master, you are bound to give me an answer."
"I am like a great many devout people, men who on the surface are deeply
religious, but quite as much atheists as you or I can be.
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