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Updated: May 6, 2025
Massot burst out laughing, well pleased with this final thrust. Then all at once: "Ah! here's Fonsegue at last!" said he. Quite at his ease, and still laughing, he forthwith introduced the priest. "This is Monsieur l'Abbe Froment, my dear patron, who has been waiting more than twenty minutes for you I'm just going to see what is happening inside.
"No, no, Monsieur l'Abbe Froment was here before me. Pray receive him first." Monferrand had to give way; he admitted the priest, and speedily dealt with him. He who usually employed the most diplomatic reserve when he was in presence of a member of the clergy plumply unfolded the Barthes business.
"If you will come with me, Monsieur l'Abbe Froment," said the young Prince, "I will show you the most interesting part of our city." He doubtless desired to please Benedetta, by behaving amiably towards her protege.
It is only justice that some account should be taken of one's intentions." Monsignor Fornaro had become very calm and paternal again. "Oh! intentions! intentions!" he said as he rose to dismiss his visitor. "You may be sure, my dear Monsieur Froment, that I feel much honoured by your visit.
M. Froment had been most hospitable to both of us during our stay in Paris; he had given us a day at Sevres, and had shown us the Manufacture in all its details. He was a widower, and inconsolable for the loss of his wife, whose memory was as sacred to him as religion. His two daughters were at home; the eldest watching maternally over the younger sister, who, however, died a few years later.
Pierre was received as soon as he had sent in his card, and perhaps he would have fancied that his visit was expected had not an appearance of sincere surprise, blended with a little anxiety, marked his reception. "Monsieur l'Abbe Froment, Monsieur l'Abbe Froment," repeated the prelate, looking at the card which he still held.
Assuredly he could not belong to the family, for they would have known his name, have recognized his face? Why, then, did he address the ancestors by the venerated names of grandfather and grandmother? And the stupefaction was the greater by reason of his extraordinary resemblance to Mathieu. Assuredly, he was a Froment, he had the bright eyes and the lofty tower-like forehead of the race.
Guillaume Froment, a savant of lofty intelligence, a chemist who lived apart from others, like one who rebelled against the social system, was now a parishioner of the abbe's, and when the latter passed the house where Guillaume lived with his three sons a house all alive with work he must often have dreamt of leading him back to God.
Froment remained hidden there until eleven o'clock. It being then completely dark, he got out of the window, crossed the city, gained the open country, and walking all night, concealed himself during the day in the house of a Catholic.
He was again three, perhaps four, years old, and round a table, shaded by the big horse-chestnut tree he once more beheld his father, his mother, and his elder brother at /dejeuner/. To his father, Michel Froment, he could give no distinct lineaments; he pictured him but faintly, vaguely, renowned as an illustrious chemist, bearing the title of Member of the Institute, and leading a cloistered life in the laboratory which he had installed in that secluded, deserted suburb.
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