After reading that letter with Mr. Brassard, I said:
"Do you not feel that these cold words mean nothing good!
I regret that you have not gone with Desaulnier to the bishop.
You know the levity and weakness of his character, always
bold with his words, but soft as wax at the least pressure which
he feels. My fear is that the bulldog tenacity of my lord
O'Regan has frightened him, and all his courage and bravados
have melted away before the fierce temper of the Bishop of
Chicago. But let us go. Be sure, however, my dear Mr.
Brassard, that if the Bishop does not accept you to remain at
the head of this colony, to protect and guide it, no consideration
whatever will induce me to betray my people and let them
become the prey of the wolves which want to devour
them."
We arrived at the Illinois Central depot of Chicago, the 28th,
at about 10 A. M. Mr. Desaulnier was there waiting for us.
He was as pale as a dead man. The marks of Cain and Judas
were on his face. Having taken him at a short distance from
the crowd, I asked him:
"What news?"
He answered: "The news is, that you and Mr. Brassard
have nothing to do but to take your bags and go away from St.
Anne, to Canada. The bishop is unwilling to make any arrangements
with you. He wants me to be the pastor of St.
Anne, pro tempore, and he wants you with Mr. Brassard, to go
quietly back to Canada, and tell the bishops to mind their own
business."
"And what has become of the promise you have given me
and to my people, to go with me and Mr. Brassard to Rome, if
the bishop refused the proposed arrangements you had fixed
yourselves?"
"Tat! tat! tat!" answered he, "the bishop does not care a
straw about your going or not going to Rome. He has put me
as his grand vicar at the head of the colony of St. Anne, from
which you must go in the shortest time possible."
"Now, Desaulnier," I answered, "you are a traitor, and a
Judas, and if you want to have the pay of Judas, I advise you
to go to St. Anne. There you will receive what you deserve.
The beauty and importance of that great colony has tempted
you, and you have sold me to the bishop, in order to become a
grand vicar and eat the fruits of the vine I have planted there,
But you will soon see your mistake. If you have any pity for
yourself, I advise you never to put your feet into that place any
more."
Desaulnier answered: "The bishop will not make any arrangements
with you unless you retract publicly what you have
written against him on account of his taking possession of the
church of the French-Canadians of Chicago, and you must publish,
in the press, that he was right and honest in what he did in
that circumstance."
"My dear Mr. Brassard," I said, "can I make such a declaration
conscientiously and honorably?" That venerable man
answered me:
"You cannot consent to such a thing.
"Desaulnier," I said, "do you hear? Mr. Brassard and your
conscience, if you have any, tell you the same thing. If you
take sides against me with a man whom you have yourself declared,
yesterday, to be a sacrilegious thief, you are not better
than he is. Go and work with him.
"As for me, I go back into the midst of my dear and noble
people of St. Anne."
"What will you do there," answered Mr. Desaulnier, "when
the bishop has forbidden you to remain?"
"What will I do?" I answered, "I will teach those true disciples
of Jesus Christ to shun and despise the tyrants and the
traitors, even though wearing a mitre or a square bonnet (un
bonnet quarre). Go, traitor! and finish your Judas work!
Adieu!"
I then threw myself into the arms of Mr. Brassard, who was
almost speechless, suffocated in his sobs and tears. I pressed
him to my heart, and said:
"Adieu! my dear Mr. Brassard. Go back to Canada and tell
my friends how the cowardice and ambition of that traitor has
ruined the hopes we had of putting an end to this deplorable
state of affairs. I go back among my brethren of St. Anne,
with more determination than ever to protect them against the
tyranny and impiety of our despotic rulers. It will be more easy
than ever to show them that the Son of God has not redeemed
us on the cross, that we might be the slaves of those heartless
traders in souls.
"I will more earnestly than ever, teach my people to shun
the modern gospel of the bishops, in order to follow the old
Gospel of Jesus Christ, as the only hope and life of our poor
fallen humanity."
Mr. Brassard wanted to say something; but his voice was
suffocated by his sobs. The only words he could utter, when
pressing me to his heart, were: "Adieu, dear friend, Adieu!"
