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"
Why
did
your
friend
take
it
into
his
head
,
"
M
.
de
Frilair
just
said
to
me
,
"
to
awaken
and
attack
the
petty
vanity
of
that
bourgeois
aristocracy
.
Why
talk
about
caste
?
He
pointed
out
to
them
what
they
ought
to
do
in
their
own
political
interest
;
the
fools
had
not
been
giving
it
a
thought
and
were
quite
ready
to
weep
.
That
caste
interest
intervened
and
blinded
their
eyes
to
the
horror
of
condemning
a
man
to
death
.
One
must
admit
that
M
.
Sorel
is
very
inexperienced
.
If
we
do
not
succeed
in
saving
him
by
a
petition
for
a
reprieve
,
his
death
will
be
a
kind
of
suicide
.
"
Mathilde
was
careful
not
to
tell
Julien
a
matter
concerning
which
she
had
now
no
longer
any
doubts
;
it
was
that
the
abbé
de
Frilair
seeing
that
Julien
was
ruined
,
had
thought
that
it
would
further
his
ambitious
projects
to
try
and
become
his
successor
.
"
Go
and
listen
to
a
mass
for
me
,
"
he
said
to
Mathilde
,
almost
beside
himself
with
vexation
and
impotent
rage
,
and
leave
me
a
moment
in
peace
.
Mathilde
who
was
already
very
jealous
of
madame
de
Rênal
’
s
visits
and
who
had
just
learned
of
her
departure
realised
the
cause
of
Julien
’
s
bad
temper
and
burst
into
tears
.
Her
grief
was
real
;
Julien
saw
this
and
was
only
the
more
irritated
.
He
had
a
crying
need
of
solitude
,
and
how
was
he
to
get
it
?
Eventually
Mathilde
,
after
having
tried
to
melt
him
by
every
possible
argument
,
left
him
alone
.
But
almost
at
the
same
moment
,
Fouqué
presented
himself
.
"
I
need
to
be
alone
,
"
he
said
,
to
this
faithful
friend
,
and
as
he
saw
him
hesitate
:
"
I
am
composing
a
memorial
for
my
petition
for
pardon
.
.
.
one
thing
more
.
.
.
do
me
a
favour
,
and
never
speak
to
me
about
death
.
If
I
have
need
of
any
especial
services
on
that
day
,
let
me
be
the
first
to
speak
to
you
about
it
.
"
When
Julien
had
eventually
procured
solitude
,
he
found
himself
more
prostrate
and
more
cowardly
than
he
had
been
before
.
The
little
force
which
this
enfeebled
soul
still
possessed
had
all
been
spent
in
concealing
his
condition
from
mademoiselle
de
la
Mole
.
Towards
the
evening
he
found
consolation
in
this
idea
.
"
If
at
the
very
moment
this
morning
,
when
death
seemed
so
ugly
to
me
,
I
had
been
given
notice
of
my
execution
,
the
public
eye
would
have
acted
as
a
spur
to
glory
,
my
demeanour
would
perhaps
have
had
a
certain
stiffness
about
it
,
like
a
nervous
fop
entering
a
salon
.
A
few
penetrating
people
,
if
there
are
any
amongst
these
provincial
might
have
managed
to
divine
my
weakness
.
.
.
.
But
no
one
would
have
seen
it
.
"
