It
is here that a fact falls naturally into place, which we must not omit, because
it is one of the sort which show us best what sort of a man the Bishop of D----
was.
After the
destruction of the band of Gaspard Bes, who had infested the gorges of
Ollioules, one of his lieutenants, Cravatte, took refuge in the mountains.
He concealed
himself for some time with his bandits, the remnant of Gaspard Bes's troop, in
the county of Nice ;
then he made his way to Piedmont, and suddenly reappeared in France
He was first
seen at Jauziers, then at Tuiles.
He hid
himself in the caverns of the Joug-de-l'Aigle, and thence he descended towards
the hamlets and villages through the ravines of Ubaye and Ubayette.
He even
pushed as far as Embrun, entered the cathedral one night, and despoiled the
sacristy.
His highway
robberies laid waste the country-side. The gendarmes were set on his track, but
in vain. He always escaped; sometimes he resisted by main force.
He was a
bold wretch.
In the midst
of all this terror the Bishop arrived. He was making his circuit to Chastelar.
The mayor
came to meet him, and urged him to retrace his steps.
Cravatte was
in possession of the mountains as far as Arche, and beyond; there was danger
even with an escort; it merely exposed three or four unfortunate gendarmes to
no purpose.
"Therefore,"
said the Bishop, "I intend to go without escort."
"You do
not really mean that, Monseigneur!" exclaimed the mayor.
"I do
mean it so thoroughly that I absolutely refuse any gendarmes, and shall set out
in an hour."
"Set
out?"
"Set
out."
"Alone?"
"Alone."
"Monseigneur,
you will not do that!"
"There
exists yonder in the mountains," said the Bishop, a tiny community no
bigger than that, which I have not seen for three years. They are my good
friends, those gentle and honest shepherds.
They own one
goat out of every thirty that they tend.
They make
very pretty woollen cords of various colors, and they play the mountain airs on
little flutes with six holes.
They need to
be told of the good God now and then.
What would
they say to a bishop who was afraid? What would they say if I did not go?"
"But
the brigands, Monseigneur?"
"Hold,"
said the Bishop, "I must think of that.
You are
right. I may meet them.
They, too,
need to be told of the good God."
"But,
Monseigneur, there is a band of them!
A flock of
wolves!"
"Monsieur
le maire, it may be that it is of this very flock of wolves that Jesus has
constituted me the shepherd.
Who knows
the ways of Providence
"They
will rob you, Monseigneur."
"I have
nothing."
"They will kill
you."
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