The abandonment of Birotteau was not even made a question; it was a first condition tacitly accepted by the three deliberators.
“To beat a retreat with the honors of war has always been the triumph of the ablest generals,” replied Monsieur de Bourbonne. “Bow to Troubert, and if his hatred is less strong than his vanity you will make him your ally; but if you bow too low he will walk over you rough-shod; make believe that you intend to leave the service, and you’ll escape him, Monsieur le baron. Send away Birotteau, madame, and you will set things right with Mademoiselle Gamard. Ask the Abbe Troubert, when you meet him at the archbishop’s, if he can play whist. He will say yes. Then invite him to your salon, where he wants to be received; he’ll be sure to come. You are a woman, and you can certainly win a priest to your interests. When the baron is promoted, his uncle peer of France, and Troubert a bishop, you can make Birotteau a canon if you choose. Meantime yield,--but yield gracefully, all the while with a slight menace. Your family can give Troubert quite as much support as he can give you. You’ll understand each other perfectly on that score. As for you, sailor, carry your deep-sea line about you.”
“Oh, get rid of him at once,” replied the old man, as he rose to take leave. “If some clever Radical lays hold of that empty head of his, he may cause you much trouble. After all, the court would certainly give a verdict in his favour, and Troubert must fear that. He may forgive you for beginning the struggle, but if they were defeated he would be implacable. I have said my say.”
He snapped his snuff-box, put on his overshoes, and departed.
The next day after breakfast the baroness took the vicar aside and said to him, not without visible embarrassment:--
“My dear Monsieur Birotteau, you will think what I am about to ask of you very unjust and very inconsistent; but it is necessary, both for you and for us, that your lawsuit with Mademoiselle Gamard be withdrawn by resigning your claims, and also that you should leave my house.”
As he heard these words the poor abbe turned pale.
“I am,” she continued, “the innocent cause of your misfortunes, and, moreover, if it had not been for my nephew you would never have begun this lawsuit, which has now turned to your injury and to ours. But listen to me.”