She began to scrutinize her lover, and found him considerably above the plane which she had anticipated.
Boniface de La Mole seemed to be brought to life again, but on a more heroic scale.
Mathilde saw the first advocates of the locality, and offended them by offering gold too crudely, but they finished by accepting.
She promptly came to the conclusion that so far as dubious and far reaching intrigues were concerned, everything depended at Besancon on M. the abbe de Frilair.
She found at first overwhelming difficulties in obtaining an interview with the all-powerful leader of the congregation under the obscure name of madame Michelet.
But the rumour of the beauty of a young dressmaker, who was madly in love, and had come from Paris to Besancon to console the young abbe Julien Sorel, spread over the town.
Mathilde walked about the Besancon streets alone: she hoped not to be recognised.
In any case, she thought it would be of some use to her cause if she produced a great impression on the people.
She thought, in her madness, of making them rebel in order to save Julien as he walked to his death.
Mademoiselle de la Mole thought she was dressed simply and in a way suitable to a woman in mourning, she was dressed in fact in such a way as to attract every one's attention.
She was the object of everyone's notice at Besancon when she obtained an audience of M. de Frilair after a week spent in soliciting it.
In spite of all her courage, the idea of an influential leader of the congregation, and the idea of deep and calculating criminality, were so associated with each other in her mind, that she trembled as she rang the bell at the door of the bishop's palace.
She could scarcely walk when she had to go up the staircase, which led to the apartment of the first grand Vicar.
The solitude of the episcopal palace chilled her.
"I might sit down in an armchair, and the armchair might grip my arms: I should then disappear.
Whom could my maid ask for?
The captain of the gendarmerie will take care to do nothing. I am isolated in this great town."
After her first look at the apartment, mademoiselle de la Mole felt reassured.
In the first place, the lackey who had opened the door to her had on a very elegant livery.
The salon in which she was asked to wait displayed that refined and delicate luxury which differs so much from crude magnificence, and which is only found in the best houses in Paris.
As soon as she noticed M. de Frilair coming towards her with quite a paternal air, all her ideas of his criminality disappeared.
She did not even find on his handsome face the impress of that drastic and somewhat savage courage which is so anti-pathetic to Paris society.
The half-smile which animated the features of the priest, who was all-powerful at Besancon, betokened the well-bred man, the learned prelate, the clever administrator.
Mathilde felt herself at Paris.
It was the work of a few minutes for M. de Frilair to induce Mathilde to confess to him that she was the daughter of his powerful opponent, the marquis de la Mole.
"As a matter of fact, I am not Madame Michelet," she said, reassuming all the haughtiness of her natural demeanour, "and this confession costs me but little since I have come to consult you, monsieur, on the possibility of procuring the escape of M. de la Vernaye.
Moreover, he is only guilty of a piece of folly; the woman whom he shot at is well; and, in the second place, I can put down fifty-thousand francs straight away for the purpose of bribing the officials, and pledge myself for twice that sum.
Finally, my gratitude and the gratitude of my family will be ready to do absolutely anything for the man who has saved M. de la Vernaye."
M. de Frilair seemed astonished at the name.
Mathilde shewed him several letters from the Minister of War, addressed to M. Julien Sorel de la Vernaye.
"You see, monsieur, that my father took upon himself the responsibility of his career.
I married him secretly, my father was desirous that he should be a superior officer before the notification of this marriage, which, after all, is somewhat singular for a de la Mole."
Mathilde noticed that M. de Frilair's expression of goodwill and mild cheerfulness was rapidly vanishing in proportion as he made certain important discoveries.
His face exhibited a subtlety tinged with deep perfidiousness, the abbe had doubts, he was slowly re-reading the official documents.
"What can I get out of these strange confidences?" he said to himself.
"Here I am suddenly thrown into intimate relations with a friend of the celebrated marechale de Fervaques, who is the all-powerful niece of my lord, bishop of —— who can make one a bishop of France.
What I looked upon as an extremely distant possibility presents itself unexpectedly.
This may lead me to the goal of all my hopes."
Mathilde was at first alarmed by the sudden change in the expression of this powerful man, with whom she was alone in a secluded room.
"But come," she said to herself soon afterwards.
"Would it not have been more unfortunate if I had made no impression at all on the cold egoism of a priest who was already sated with power and enjoyment?"
Dazzled at the sight of this rapid and unexpected path of reaching the episcopate which now disclosed itself to him, and astonished as he was by Mathilde's genius, M. de Frilair ceased for a moment to be on his guard.
Mademoiselle de la Mole saw him almost at her feet, tingling with ambition, and trembling nervously.
"Everything is cleared up," she thought.
"Madame de Fervaques' friend will find nothing impossible in this town."
In spite of a sentiment of still painful jealousy she had sufficient courage to explain that Julien was the intimate friend of the marechale, and met my lord the bishop of —— nearly every day.
"If you were to draw by ballot four or five times in succession a list of thirty-six jurymen from out the principal inhabitants of this department," said the grand Vicar, emphasizing his words, and with a hard, ambitious expression in his eyes,
"I should not feel inclined to congratulate myself, if I could not reckon on eight or ten friends who would be the most intelligent of the lot in each list.
I can always manage in nearly every case to get more than a sufficient majority to secure a condemnation, so you see, mademoiselle, how easy it is for me to secure a conviction."
The abbe stopped short as though astonished by the sound of his own words; he was admitting things which are never said to the profane.