behaviour that I made him a sort of friendly confession with a request
for absolution.

However, not to anticipate events, I will simply say that the first
few days after my conversation afforded me an ample revenge for the
prejudices, too well founded in many respects, which this man had
against me. He would have deserved the title of "the just," assigned
him by Patience, had not a habit of distrust interfered with his first
impulses. The persecutions of which he had so long been the object had
developed in him this instinctive feeling of fear, which remained with
him all his life, and made trust in others always very difficult to him,
though all the more flattering and touching perhaps when he accorded it.
Since then I have observed this characteristic in many worthy priests.
They generally have the spirit of charity, but not the feeling of
friendship.

I wished to make him suffer, and I succeeded. Spite inspired me. I
behaved as a nobleman might to an inferior. I preserved an excellent
bearing, displayed great attention, much politeness, and an icy
stiffness. I determined to give him no chance to make me blush at
my ignorance, and, to this end, I acted so as to anticipate all his
observations by accusing myself at once of knowing nothing, and by
requesting him to teach me the very rudiments of things. When I had
finished my first lesson I saw in his penetrating eyes, into which I had
managed to penetrate myself, a desire to pass from this coldness to
some sort of intimacy; but I carefully avoided making any response. He
thought to disarm me by praising my attention and intelligence.

"You are troubling yourself unnecessarily, monsieur," I replied. "I
stand in no need of encouragement. I have not the least faith in my