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were to happen to him, it would be the end of me. I should
go to the good God with my brother and my bishop. It has
cost Madam Magloire more trouble than it did me to ac-
custom herself to what she terms his imprudences. But now
the habit has been acquired. We pray together, we tremble
together, and we fall asleep. If the devil were to enter this
house, he would be allowed to do so. After all, what is there
for us to fear in this house? There is always some one with
us who is stronger than we. The devil may pass through it,
but the good God dwells here.
This suffices me. My brother has no longer any need of
saying a word to me. I understand him without his speak-
ing, and we abandon ourselves to the care of Providence.
That is the way one has to do with a man who possesses
grandeur of soul.
I have interrogated my brother with regard to the infor-
mation which you desire on the subject of the Faux family.
You are aware that he knows everything, and that he has
memories, because he is still a very good royalist. They re-
ally are a very ancient Norman family of the generalship of
Caen. Five hundred years ago there was a Raoul de Faux,
a Jean de Faux, and a Thomas de Faux, who were gentle-
men, and one of whom was a seigneur de Rochefort. The
last was Guy-Etienne-Alexandre, and was commander of a
regiment, and something in the light horse of Bretagne. His
daughter, Marie-Louise, married Adrien-Charles de Gra-
mont, son of the Duke Louis de Gramont, peer of France,
colonel of the French guards, and lieutenant-general of the
army. It is written Faux, Fauq, and Faoucq.