"My son is sleeping, monsieur; if you have something to say to me, come, I beseech you, in the library."

The unhappy woman paused a moment.

Her courage failed her, so terrible was the expression of Bastien's countenance.

The rays of the lamp placed upon the chimneypiece in Marie's bedchamber shone full upon the face of M. Bastien, which, thus brilliantly lighted, seemed to glare upon the darkness of the corridor.

This man, who had the breadth of Hercules, was now frightfully pale in consequence of the reaction of long continued drink and anger. He was about half drunk; his coa.r.s.e, thick hair fell low on his forehead and almost concealed his little, wicked gray eyes. His bull-like neck was naked and his blouse open, as well as his great coat and vest, exposing a part of a powerful and hairy chest.

At the sight of this man, Marie, as we have said, felt for a moment her courage give way.

But, reflecting that the excited state in which M. Bastien was, only rendered him more pa.s.sionate, and more intractable, that he would not hesitate at any violence or outburst of temper, and that then the intervention of David and Frederick would, unfortunately, become inevitable, the young woman, brave as she always was, thanked Heaven that her son had heard nothing, seized the lamp on the chimneypiece, returned to her husband, who stood immovable on the threshold, and said to him in a low voice:

"Let us go in the library, monsieur. I am afraid, as I told you, of waking my son."

M. Bastien appeared to take counsel with himself before yielding to Marie's desire.

After several minutes' hesitation, during which the young woman almost died of anguish, the Hercules replied:

"Well, to come to the point, I prefer that; come, go on before me."

Marie, preceding Jacques Bastien in the corridor, soon entered the library.

CHAPTER x.x.xVII.

Madame Bastien, whose heart was beating violently, set the lamp on the chimneypiece in the library, and said to her husband:

"What do you wish, monsieur?"

Jacques had reached that degree of drunkenness which is not madness, which leaves the mind even quite clear, but which renders the will implacable; he did not at first reply to the question of Marie, who said again:

"Please, monsieur, I beg you, tell me what you wish of me."

Jacques, both hands in the pockets of his blouse, stood directly in front of his wife; sometimes he knit his eyebrows with a sinister expression as he stared at her, sometimes he smiled with a satirical air.

Finally, addressing Marie with a slow and uncertain voice, for his half-drunken condition r.e.t.a.r.ded his utterance and obliged him to make frequent pauses, he said to her:

"Madame it is about seventeen years and a half that we have been married, is it not?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"What good have you been to me?"

"Monsieur!"

"You have not even served me as a wife."

Marie, her cheeks coloured with shame and indignation, started to go out.

Bastien barred the pa.s.sage and cried elevating his voice:

"Stop there!"

"Silence, monsieur!" said the unhappy woman, whose fears were renewed lest David and Frederick should be awakened by the noise of an altercation.

So, waiting for new outrages, and resigned beforehand to submit to them, she said to Jacques, in a trembling voice:

"For pity's sake, monsieur, do not speak so loud, they will hear you. I will listen to you, as painful as this conversation is to me."

"I tell you that you have been no good to me since we were married; a servant hired for wages would have kept my house better than you, and with less expense."

"Perhaps, monsieur," replied Marie, with a bitter smile, "this servant might not, as I, have reared your son--"

"To hate his father?"

"Monsieur!"

"Enough! I saw that clearly this evening. If you had not prevented him, that blackguard would have used abusive language to me and ranged himself on your side. It is very plain, and he is not the only one. As soon as I arrive here, in my own house, each one of you says, 'There is the enemy, there is the wild boar, there is the ogre!' Ah, well, let me be an ogre; that suits me very well."

"You are mistaken, monsieur; I have always taught your son the respect that is due you, and this evening even--"

"Enough!" cried Hercules, interrupting his wife.

And he pursued his thought with the tenacity of the drunkard, who concentrates upon one idea all the lucidity of mind left to him.

"I tell you again," continued he, "that since our marriage you have served me in nothing; you have made of my son a c.o.xcomb, who requires preceptors and pleasure excursions to drive away his hysterics, and who, over and above that, curses me; you have rifled my wood and my silver, you have stolen from me!"

"Monsieur!" cried Marie, indignant.

"You have stolen from me!" repeated Hercules, in such a thundering voice, that Marie clasped her hands, and murmured:

"Oh, for mercy's sake, monsieur, not so loud, not so loud!"

"Now then, since in these seventeen years you have done me nothing but evil, this cannot last."

"What do you mean?"

"I have enough of it."

"But--"

"I have too much of it. I want no more of it."

"I do not understand you, monsieur."