Chapter VI

by Emile Zola

　　A week later, Florent thought that he would at last be able to proceedto action. A sufficiently serious outburst of public dissatisfactionfurnished an opportunity for launching his insurrectionary forces uponParis. The Corps Legislatif, whose members had lately shown greatvariance of opinion respecting certain grants to the Imperial family,was now discussing a bill for the imposition of a very unpopular tax,at which the lower orders had already begun to growl. The Ministry,fearing a defeat, was straining every nerve. It was probable, thoughtFlorent, that no better pretext for a rising would for a long timepresent itself.One morning, at daybreak, he went to reconnoitre the neighbourhood ofthe Palais Bourbon. He forgot all about his duties as inspector, andlingered there, studying the approaches of the palace, till eighto'clock, without ever thinking that his absence would revolutionisethe fish market. He perambulated all the surrounding streets, the Ruede Lille, the Rue de l'Universite, the Rue de Bourgogne, the Rue SaintDominique, and even extended his examination to the Esplanade desInvalides, stopping at certain crossways, and measuring distances ashe walked along. Then, on coming back to the Quai d'Orsay, he sat downon the parapet, and determined that the attack should be madesimultaneously from all sides. The contingents from the Gros-Cailloudistrict should arrive by way of the Champ de Mars; the sections fromthe north of Paris should come down by the Madeleine; while those fromthe west and the south would follow the quays, or make their way insmall detachments through the then narrow streets of the FaubourgSaint Germain. However, the other side of the river, the ChampsElysees, with their open avenues, caused him some uneasiness; for heforesaw that cannon would be stationed there to sweep the quays. Hethereupon modified several details of his plan, and marked down in amemorandum-book the different positions which the several sectionsshould occupy during the combat. The chief attack, he concluded, mustcertainly be made from the Rue de Bourgogne and the Rue del'Universite, while a diversion might be effected on the side of theriver.Whilst he thus pondered over his plans the eight o'clock sun, warmingthe nape of his neck, shone gaily on the broad footways, and gildedthe columns of the great structure in front of him. In imagination healready saw the contemplated battle; clusters of men clinging roundthose columns, the gates burst open, the peristyle invaded; and thenscraggy arms suddenly appearing high aloft and planting a bannerthere.At last he slowly went his way homewards again with his gaze fixedupon the ground. But all at once a cooing sound made him look up, andhe saw that he was passing through the garden of the Tuileries. Anumber of wood-pigeons, bridling their necks, were strutting over alawn near by. Florent leant for a moment against the tub of an orange-tree, and looked at the grass and the pigeons steeped in sunshine.Right ahead under the chestnut-trees all was black. The garden waswrapped in a warm silence, broken only by the distant rumbling whichcame from behind the railings of the Rue de Rivoli. The scent of allthe greenery affected Florent, reminding him of Madame Francois.However, a little girl ran past, trundling a hoop, and alarmed thepigeons. They flew off, and settled in a row on the arm of a marblestatue of an antique wrestler standing in the middle of the lawn, andonce more, but with less vivacity, they began to coo and bridle theirnecks.As Florent was returning to the markets by way of the Rue Vauvilliers,he heard Claude Lantier calling to him. The artist was going down intothe basement of the poultry pavilion. "Come with me!" he cried. "I'mlooking for that brute Marjolin."Florent followed, glad to forget his thoughts and to defer his returnto the fish market for a little longer. Claude told him that hisfriend Marjolin now had nothing further to wish for: he had become anutter animal. Claude entertained an idea of making him pose on all-fours in future. Whenever he lost his temper over some disappointingsketch he came to spend whole hours in the idiot's company, neverspeaking, but striving to catch his expression when he laughed."He'll be feeding his pigeons, I dare say," he said; "butunfortunately I don't know whereabouts Monsieur Gavard's storeroomis."They groped about the cellar. In the middle of it some water wastrickling from a couple of taps in the dim gloom. The storerooms hereare reserved for pigeons exclusively, and all along the trellisingthey heard faint cooings, like the hushed notes of birds nestlingunder the leaves when daylight is departing. Claude began to laugh ashe heard it."It sounds as though all the lovers in Paris were embracing each otherinside here, doesn't it?" he exclaimed to his companion.However, they could not find a single storeroom open, and werebeginning to think that Marjolin could not be in the cellar, when asound of loud, smacking kisses made them suddenly halt before a doorwhich stood slightly ajar. Claude pulled it open and beheld Marjolin,whom Cadine was kissing, whilst he, a mere dummy, offered his facewithout feeling the slightest thrill at the touch of her lips."Oh, so this is your little game, is it?" said Claude with a laugh."Oh," replied Cadine, quite unabashed, "he likes being kissed, becausehe feels afraid now in the dim light. You do feel frightened, don'tyou?"Like the idiot he was, Marjolin stroked his face with his hands asthough trying to find the kisses which the girl had just printedthere. And he was beginning to stammer out that he was afraid, whenCadine continued: "And, besides, I came to help him; I've been feedingthe pigeons."Florent looked at the poor creatures. All along the shelves were rowsof lidless boxes, in which pigeons, showing their motley plumage,crowded closely on their stiffened legs. Every now and then a tremorran along the moving mass; and then the birds settled down again, andnothing was heard but their confused, subdued notes. Cadine had asaucepan near her; she filled her mouth with the water and tares whichit contained, and then, taking up the pigeons one by one, shot thefood down their throats with amazing rapidity. The poor creaturesstruggled and nearly choked, and finally fell down in the boxes withswimming eyes, intoxicated, as it were, by all the food which theywere thus forced to swallow.[*][*] This is the customary mode of fattening pigeons at the Parismarkets. The work is usually done by men who make a specialty ofit, and are called gaveurs.--Translator."Poor creatures!" exclaimed Claude."Oh, so much the worse for them," said Cadine, who had now finished."They are much nicer eating when they've been well fed. In a couple ofhours or so all those over yonder will be given a dose of salt water.That makes their flesh white and tender. Then two hours afterwardsthey'll be killed. If you would like to see the killing, there aresome here which are quite ready. Marjolin will settle their accountfor them in a jiffy."Marjolin carried away a box containing some fifty pigeons, and Claudeand Florent followed him. Squatting upon the ground near one of thewater-taps, he placed the box by his side. Then he laid a framework ofslender wooden bars on the top of a kind of zinc trough, and forthwithbegan to kill the pigeons. His knife flashed rapidly in his fingers,as he seized the birds by the wings, stunned them by a blow on thehead from the knife-handle, and then thrust the point of the bladeinto their throats. They quivered for an instant, and ruffled theirfeathers as Marjolin laid them in a row, with their heads between thewooden bars above the zinc trough, into which their blood fell drop bydrop. He repeated each different movement with the regularity ofclockwork, the blows from the knife-handle falling with a monotonoustick-tack as he broke the birds' skulls, and his hand workingbackwards and forwards like a pendulum as he took up the livingpigeons on one side and laid them down dead on the other. Soon,moreover, he worked with increasing rapidity, gloating over themassacre with glistening eyes, squatting there like a huge delightedbull-dog enjoying the sight of slaughtered vermin. "Tick-tack! Tick-tack!" whilst his tongue clucked as an accompaniment to the rhythmicalmovements of his knife. The pigeons hung down like wisps of silkenstuff."Ah, you enjoy that, don't you, you great stupid?" exclaimed Cadine."How comical those pigeons look when they bury their heads in theirshoulders to hide their necks! They're horrid things, you know, andwould give one nasty bites if they got the chance." Then she laughedmore loudly at Marjolin's increasing, feverish haste; and added: "I'vekilled them sometimes myself, but I can't get on as quickly as hedoes. One day he killed a hundred in ten minutes."The wooden frame was nearly full; the blood could be heard fallinginto the zinc trough; and as Claude happened to turn round he sawFlorent looking so pale that he hurriedly led him away. When they gotabove-ground again he made him sit down on a step."Why, what's the matter with you?" he exclaimed, tapping him on theshoulder. "You're fainting away like a woman!""It's the smell of the cellar," murmured Florent, feeling a littleashamed of himself.The truth was, however, that those pigeons, which were forced toswallow tares and salt water, and then had their skulls broken andtheir throats slit, had reminded him of the wood-pigeons of theTuileries gardens, strutting over the green turf, with their satinyplumage flashing iridescently in the sunlight. He again heard themcooing on the arm of the marble wrestler amidst the hushed silence ofthe garden, while children trundled their hoops in the deep gloom ofthe chestnuts. And then, on seeing that big fair-haired animalmassacring his boxful of birds, stunning them with the handle of hisknife and driving its point into their throats, in the depths of thatfoul-smelling cellar, he had felt sick and faint, his legs had almostgiven way beneath him, while his eyelids quivered tremulously."Well, you'd never do for a soldier!" Claude said to him when herecovered from his faintness. "Those who sent you to Cayenne must havebeen very simple-minded folks to fear such a man as you! Why, my goodfellow, if ever you do put yourself at the head of a rising, you won'tdare to fire a shot. You'll be too much afraid of killing somebody."Florent got up without making any reply. He had become very gloomy,his face was furrowed by deep wrinkles; and he walked off, leavingClaude to go back to the cellar alone. As he made his way towards thefish market his thoughts returned to his plan of attack, to the leviesof armed men who were to invade the Palais Bourbon. Cannon would roarfrom the Champs Elysees; the gates would be burst open; blood wouldstain the steps, and men's brains would bespatter the pillars. Avision of the fight passed rapidly before him; and he beheld himselfin the midst of it, deadly pale, and hiding his face in his hands, notdaring to look around him.As he was crossing the Rue du Pont Neuf he fancied he espied Auguste'spale face peering round the corner of the fruit pavilion. Theassistant seemed to be watching for someone, and his eyes werestarting from his head with an expression of intense excitement.Suddenly, however, he vanished and hastened back to the pork shop."What's the matter with him?" thought Florent. "Is he frightened ofme, I wonder?"Some very serious occurrences had taken place that morning at theQuenu-Gradelles'. Soon after daybreak, Auguste, breathless withexcitement, had awakened his mistress to tell her that the police hadcome to arrest Monsieur Florent. And he added, with stammeringincoherence, that the latter had gone out, and that he must have doneso with the intention of escaping. Lisa, careless of appearances, atonce hurried up to her brother-in-law's room in her dressing-wrapper,and took possession of La Normande's photograph, after glancing roundto see if there was anything lying about that might compromise herselfand Quenu. As she was making her way downstairs again, she met thepolice agents on the first floor. The commissary requested her toaccompany them to Florent's room, where, after speaking to her for amoment in a low tone, he installed himself with his men, bidding heropen the shop as usual so as to avoid giving the alarm to anyone. Thetrap was set.Lisa's only worry in the matter was the terrible blow that the arrestwould prove to poor Quenu. She was much afraid that if he learned thatthe police were in the house, he would spoil everything by his tears;so she made Auguste swear to observe the most rigid silence on thesubject. Then she went back to her room, put on her stays, andconcocted some story for the benefit of Quenu, who was still drowsy.Half an hour later she was standing at the door of the shop with allher usual neatness of appearance, her hair smooth and glossy, and herface glowing rosily. Auguste was quietly setting out the window. Quenucame for a moment on to the footway, yawning slightly, and riddinghimself of all sleepiness in the fresh morning air. There was nothingto indicate the drama that was in preparation upstairs.The commissary himself, however, gave the alarm to the neighbourhoodby paying a domiciliary visit to the Mehudins' abode in the RuePirouette. He was in possession of the most precise information. Inthe anonymous letters which had been sent to the Prefecture, all sortsof statements were made respecting Florent's alleged intrigue with thebeautiful Norman. Perhaps, thought the commissary, he had now takenrefuge with her; and so, accompanied by two of his men, he proceededto knock at the door in the name of the law. The Mehudins had onlyjust got up. The old woman opened the door in a fury; but suddenlycalmed down and began to smile when she learned the business on hand.She seated herself and fastened her clothes, while declaring to theofficers: "We are honest folks here, and have nothing to be afraid of.You can search wherever you like."However, as La Normande delayed to open the door of her room, thecommissary told his men to break it open. The young woman was scarcelyclad when the others entered, and this unceremonious invasion, whichshe could not understand, fairly exasperated her. She flushed crimsonfrom anger rather than from shame, and seemed as though she were aboutto fly at the officers. The commissary, at the sight, stepped forwardto protect his men, repeating in his cold voice: "In the name of thelaw! In the name of the law!"Thereupon La Normande threw herself upon a chair, and burst into awild fit of hysterical sobbing at finding herself so powerless. Shewas quite at a loss to understand what these men wanted with her. Thecommissary, however, had noticed how scantily she was clad, and takinga shawl from a peg, he flung it over her. Still she did not wrap itround her, but only sobbed the more bitterly as she watched the menroughly searching the apartment."But what have I done?" she at last stammered out. "What are youlooking for here?"Thereupon the commissary pronounced the name of Florent; and LaNormande, catching sight of the old woman, who was standing at thedoor, cried out: "Oh, the wretch! This is her doing!" and she rushedat her mother.She would have struck her if she had reached her; but the policeagents held her back, and forcibly wrapped her in the shawl.Meanwhile, she struggled violently, and exclaimed in a choking voice:"What do you take me for? That Florent has never been in this room, Itell you. There was nothing at all between us. People are alwaystrying to injure me in the neighbourhood; but just let anyone comehere and say anything before my face, and then you'll see! You'll lockme up afterwards, I dare say, but I don't mind that! Florent, indeed!What a lie! What nonsense!"This flood of words seemed to calm her; and her anger now turnedagainst Florent, who was the cause of all the trouble. Addressing thecommissary, she sought to justify herself."I did not know his real character, sir," she said. "He had such amild manner that he deceived us all. I was unwilling to believe all Iheard, because I know people are so malicious. He only came here togive lessons to my little boy, and went away directly they were over.I gave him a meal here now and again, that's true and sometimes madehim a present of a fine fish. That's all. But this will be a warningto me, and you won't catch me showing the same kindness to anyoneagain.""But hasn't he given you any of his papers to take care of?" asked thecommissary."Oh no, indeed! I swear it. I'd give them up to you at once if he had.I've had quite enough of this, I can tell you! It's no joke to see youtossing all my things about and ferreting everywhere in this way. Oh!you may look; there's nothing."The officers, who examined every article of furniture, now wished toenter the little closet where Muche slept. The child had been awakenedby the noise, and for the last few moments he had been cryingbitterly, as though he imagined that he was going to be murdered."This is my boy's room," said La Normande, opening the door.Muche, quite naked, ran up and threw his arms round his mother's neck.She pacified him, and laid him down in her own bed. The officers cameout of the little room again almost immediately, and the commissaryhad just made up his mind to retire, when the child, still in tears,whispered in his mother's ear: "They'll take my copy-books. Don't letthem have my copy-books.""Oh, yes; that's true," cried La Normande; "there are some copy-books.Wait a moment, gentlemen, and I'll give them to you. I want you to seethat I'm not hiding anything from you. Then, you'll find some of hiswriting inside these. You're quite at liberty to hang him as far asI'm concerned; you won't find me trying to cut him down."Thereupon she handed Muche's books and the copies set by Florent tothe commissary. But at this the boy sprang angrily out of bed, andbegan to scratch and bite his mother, who put him back again with abox on the ears. Then he began to bellow.In the midst of the uproar, Mademoiselle Saget appeared on thethreshold, craning her neck forward. Finding all the doors open, shehad come in to offer her services to old Madame Mehudin. She spiedabout and listened, and expressed extreme pity for these poor women,who had no one to defend them. The commissary, however, had begun toread the copies with a grave air. The frequent repetition of suchwords as "tyrannically," "liberticide," "unconstitutional," and"revolutionary" made him frown; and on reading the sentence, "When thehour strikes, the guilty shall fall," he tapped his fingers on thepaper and said: "This is very serious, very serious indeed."Thereupon he gave the books to one of his men, and went off. Claire,who had hitherto not shown herself, now opened her door, and watchedthe police officers go down the stairs. And afterwards she came intoher sister's bedroom, which she had not entered for a year.Mademoiselle Saget appeared to be on the best of terms with LaNormande, and was hanging over her in a caressing way, bringing theshawl forward to cover her the better, and listening to her angryindignation with an expression of the deepest sympathy."You wretched coward!" exclaimed Claire, planting herself in front ofher sister.La Normande sprang up, quivering with anger, and let the shawl fall tothe floor."Ah, you've been playing the spy, have you?" she screamed. "Dare torepeat what you've just said!""You wretched coward!" repeated Claire, in still more insulting tonesthan before.Thereupon La Normande struck Claire with all her force; and in returnClaire, turning terribly pale, sprang upon her sister and dug hernails into her neck. They struggled together for a moment or two,tearing at each other's hair and trying to choke one another. Claire,fragile though she was, pushed La Normande backward with suchtremendous violence that they both fell against the wardrobe, smashingthe mirror on its front. Muche was roaring, and old Madame Mehudincalled to Mademoiselle Saget to come and help her separate thesisters. Claire, however, shook herself free."Coward! Coward!" she cried; "I'll go and tell the poor fellow that itis you who have betrayed him."Her mother, however, blocked the doorway, and would not let her pass,while La Normande seized her from behind, and then, Mademoiselle Sagetcoming to the assistance of the other two, the three of them draggedClaire into her bedroom and locked the door upon her, in spite of allher frantic resistance. In her rage she tried to kick the door down,and smashed everything in the room. Soon afterwards, however, nothingcould be heard except a furious scratching, the sound of metalscarping at the plaster. The girl was trying to loosen the door hingeswith the points of her scissors."She would have murdered me if she had had a knife," said La Normande,looking about for her clothes, in order to dress herself. "She'll bedoing something dreadful, you'll see, one of these days, with thatjealousy of hers! We mustn't let her get out on any account: she'dbring the whole neighbourhood down upon us!"Mademoiselle Saget went off in all haste. She reached the corner ofthe Rue Pirouette just as the commissary of police was re-entering theside passage of the Quenu-Gradelles' house. She grasped the situationat once, and entered the shop with such glistening eyes that Lisaenjoined silence by a gesture which called her attention to thepresence of Quenu, who was hanging up some pieces of salt pork. Assoon as he had returned to the kitchen, the old maid in a low voicedescribed the scenes that had just taken place at the Mehudins'. Lisa,as she bent over the counter, with her hand resting on a dish oflarded veal, listened to her with the happy face of one who triumphs.Then, as a customer entered the shop, and asked for a couple of pig'strotters, Lisa wrapped them up, and handed them over with a thoughtfulair."For my own part, I bear La Normande no ill-will," she said toMademoiselle Saget, when they were alone again. "I used to be veryfond of her, and have always been sorry that other people mademischief between us. The proof that I've no animosity against her ishere in this photograph, which I saved from falling into the hands ofthe police, and which I'm quite ready to give her back if she willcome and ask me for it herself."She took the photograph out of her pocket as she spoke. MademoiselleSaget scrutinised it and sniggered as she read the inscription,"Louise, to her dear friend Florent.""I'm not sure you'll be acting wisely," she said in her cutting voice."You'd do better to keep it.""No, no," replied Lisa; "I'm anxious for all this silly nonsense tocome to an end. To-day is the day of reconciliation. We've had enoughunpleasantness, and the neighbourhood's now going to be quiet andpeaceful again.""Well, well, shall I go and tell La Normande that you are expectingher?" asked the old maid."Yes; I shall be very glad if you will."Mademoiselle Saget then made her way back to the Rue Pirouette, andgreatly frightened the fish-girl by telling her that she had just seenher photograph in Lisa's pocket. She could not, however, at onceprevail upon her to comply with her rival's terms. La Normandepropounded conditions of her own. She would go, but Madame Quenu mustcome to the door of the shop to receive her. Thus the old maid wasobliged to make another couple of journeys between the two rivalsbefore their meeting could be satisfactorily arranged. At last,however, to her great delight, she succeeded in negotiating the peacewhich was destined to cause so much talk and excitement. As she passedClaire's door for the last time she still heard the sound of thescissors scraping away at the plaster.When she had at last carried a definite reply to Madame Quenu,Mademoiselle Saget hurried off to find Madame Lecoeur and LaSarriette; and all three of them took up their position on the footwayat the corner of the fish market, just in front of the pork shop. Herethey would be certain to have a good view of every detail of themeeting. They felt extremely impatient, and while pretending to chattogether kept an anxious look-out in the direction of the RuePirouette, along which La Normande must come. The news of thereconciliation was already travelling through the markets, and whilesome saleswomen stood up behind their stalls trying to get a view ofwhat was taking place, others, still more inquisitive, actually lefttheir places and took up a position in the covered way. Every eye inthe markets was directed upon the pork shop; the whole neighbourhoodwas on the tip-toe of expectation.It was a very solemn affair. When La Normande at last turned thecorner of the Rue Pirouette the excitement was so great that the womenheld their breath."She has got her diamonds on," murmured La Sarriette."Just look how she stalks along," added Madame Lecoeur; "the stuck-upcreature!"The beautiful Norman was, indeed, advancing with the mien of a queenwho condescends to make peace. She had made a most careful toilet,frizzing her hair and turning up a corner of her apron to display hercashmere skirt. She had even put on a new and rich lace bow. Consciousthat the whole market was staring at her, she assumed a stillhaughtier air as she approached the pork shop. When she reached thedoor she stopped."Now it's beautiful Lisa's turn," remarked Mademoiselle Saget. "Mindyou pay attention."Beautiful Lisa smilingly quitted her counter. She crossed the shop-floor at a leisurely pace, and came and offered her hand to thebeautiful Norman. She also was smartly dressed, with her dazzlinglinen and scrupulous neatness. A murmur ran through the crowd of fish-wives, all their heads gathered close together, and animated chatterensued. The two women had gone inside the shop, and the crepines inthe window prevented them from being clearly seen. However, theyseemed to be conversing affectionately, addressing pretty complimentsto one another."See!" suddenly exclaimed Mademoiselle Saget, "the beautiful Norman'sbuying something! What is it she's buying? It's a chitterling, Ibelieve! Ah! Look! look! You didn't see it, did you? Well, beautifulLisa just gave her the photograph; she slipped it into her hand withthe chitterling."Fresh salutations were then seen to pass between the two women; andthe beautiful Lisa, exceeding even the courtesies which had beenagreed upon, accompanied the beautiful Norman to the footway. Therethey stood laughing together, exhibiting themselves to theneighbourhood like a couple of good friends. The markets were quitedelighted; and the saleswomen returned to their stalls, declaring thateverything had passed off extremely well.Mademoiselle Saget, however, detained Madame Lecoeur and La Sarriette.The drama was not over yet. All three kept their eyes fixed on thehouse opposite with such keen curiosity that they seemed trying topenetrate the very walls. To pass the time away they once more beganto talk of the beautiful Norman."She's without a lover now," remarked Madame Lecoeur."Oh! she's got Monsieur Lebigre," replied La Sarriette, with a laugh."But surely Monsieur Lebigre won't have anything more to say to her."Mademoiselle Saget shrugged her shoulders. "Ah, you don't know him,"she said. "He won't care a straw about all this business. He knowswhat he's about, and La Normande is rich. They'll come together in acouple of months, you'll see. Old Madame Mehudin's been scheming tobring about their marriage for a long time past.""Well, anyway," retorted the butter dealer, "the commissary foundFlorent at her lodgings.""No, no, indeed; I'm sure I never told you that. The long spindle-shanks had gone way," replied the old maid. She paused to take abreath; then resumed in an indignant tone, "What distressed me mostwas to hear of all the abominable things that the villain had taughtlittle Muche. You'd really never believe it. There was a whole bundleof papers.""What sort of abominable things?" asked La Sarriette with interest."Oh, all kinds of filth. The commissary said there was quitesufficient there to hang him. The fellow's a perfect monster! To goand demoralise a child! Why, it's almost past believing! Little Mucheis certainly a scamp, but that's no reason why he should be given overto the 'Reds,' is it?""Certainly not," assented the two others."However, all these mysterious goings-on will come to an end now. Youremember my telling you once that there was some strange goings-on atthe Quenus'? Well, you see, I was right in my conclusions, wasn't I?Thank God, however, the neighbourhood will now be able to breatheeasily. It was high time strong steps were taken, for things had gotto such a pitch that one actually felt afraid of being murdered inbroad daylight. There was no pleasure in life. All the dreadfulstories and reports one heard were enough to worry one to death. Andit was all owing to that man, that dreadful Florent. Now beautifulLisa and the beautiful Norman have sensibly made friends again. It wastheir duty to do so for the sake of the peace and quietness of us all.Everything will go on satisfactorily now, you'll find. Ah! there'spoor Monsieur Quenu laughing yonder!"Quenu had again come on to the footway, and was joking with MadameTaboureau's little servant. He seemed quite gay and skittish thatmorning. He took hold of the little servant's hands, and squeezed herfingers so tightly, in the exuberance of his spirits, that he made hercry out. Lisa had the greatest trouble to get him to go back into thekitchen. She was impatiently pacing about the shop, fearing lestFlorent should make his appearance; and she called to her husband tocome away, dreading a meeting between him and his brother."She's getting quite vexed," said Mademoiselle Saget. "Poor MonsieurQuenu, you see, knows nothing at all about what's taking place. Justlook at him there, laughing like a child! Madame Taboureau, you know,said that she should have nothing more to do with the Quenus if theypersisted in bringing themselves into discredit by keeping thatFlorent with them.""Well, now, I suppose, they will stick to the fortune," remarkedMadame Lecoeur."Oh, no, indeed, my dear. The other one has had his share already.""Really? How do you know that?""Oh, it's clear enough, that is!" replied the old maid after amomentary hesitation, but without giving any proof of her assertions."He's had even more than his share. The Quenus will be severalthousand francs out of pocket. Money flies, you know, when a man hassuch vices as he has. I dare say you don't know that there was anotherwoman mixed up in it all. Yes, indeed, old Madame Verlaque, the wifeof the former inspector; you know the sallow-faced thing well enough."The others protested that it surely wasn't possible. Why, MadameVerlaque was positively hideous!"What! do you think me a liar?" cried Mademoiselle Saget, with angryindignation. "Why, her letters to him have been found, a whole pile ofletters, in which she asks for money, ten and twenty francs at a time.There's no doubt at all about it. I'm quite certain in my own mindthat they killed the husband between them."La Sarriette and Madame Lecoeur were convinced; but they werebeginning to get very impatient. They had been waiting on the footwayfor more than an hour, and feared that somebody might be robbing theirstalls during their long absence. So Mademoiselle Saget began to givethem some further interesting information to keep them from going off.Florent could not have taken to flight, said she; he was certain toreturn, and it would be very interesting to see him arrested. Then shewent on to describe the trap that had been laid for him, while MadameLecoeur and La Sarriette continued scrutinising the house from top tobottom, keeping watch upon every opening, and at each moment expectingto see the hats of the detectives appear at one of the doors orwindows."Who would ever imagine, now, that the place was full of police?"observed the butter dealer."Oh! they're in the garret at the top," said the old maid. "They'veleft the window open, you see, just as they found it. Look! I think Ican see one of them hiding behind the pomegranate on the balcony."The others excitedly craned out their necks, but could see nothing."Ah, no, it's only a shadow," continued Mademoiselle Saget. "Thelittle curtains even are perfectly still. The detectives must besitting down in the room, and keeping quiet."Just at that moment the women caught sight of Gavard coming out of thefish market with a thoughtful air. They looked at him with glisteningeyes, without speaking. They had drawn close to one another, and stoodthere rigid in their drooping skirts. The poultry dealer came up tothem."Have you seen Florent go by?" he asked.They replied that they had not."I want to speak to him at once," continued Gavard. "He isn't in thefish market. He must have gone up to his room. But you would have seenhim, though, if he had."The women had turned rather pale. They still kept looking at eachother with a knowing expression, their lips twitching slightly everynow and then. "We have only been here some five minutes, said MadameLecoeur unblushingly, as her brother-in-law still stood hesitating."Well, then, I'll go upstairs and see. I'll risk the five flights,"rejoined Gavard with a laugh.La Sarriette stepped forward as though she wished to detain him, buther aunt took hold of her arm and drew her back."Let him alone, you big simpleton!" she whispered. "It's the bestthing that can happen to him. It'll teach him to treat us with respectin future.""He won't say again that I ate tainted meat," muttered MademoiselleSaget in a low tone.They said nothing more. La Sarriette was very red; but the two othersstill remained quite yellow. But they now averted their heads, feelingconfused by each other's looks, and at a loss what to do with theirhands, which they buried beneath their aprons. Presently their eyesinstinctively came back to the house, penetrating the walls, as itwere, following Gavard in his progress up the stairs. When theyimagined that he had entered Florent's room they again exchangedfurtive glances. La Sarriette laughed nervously. All at once theyfancied they could see the window curtains moving, and this led themto believe that a struggle was taking place. But the house-frontremained as tranquil as ever in the sunshine; and another quarter ofan hour of unbroken quietness passed away, during which the threewomen's nervous excitement became more and more intense. They werebeginning to feel quite faint when a man hurriedly came out of thepassage and ran off to get a cab. Five minutes later Gavard appeared,followed by two police officers. Lisa, who had stepped out on to thefootway on observing the cab, hastily hurried back into the shop.Gavard was very pale. The police had searched him upstairs, and haddiscovered the revolver and cartridge case in his possession. Judgingby the commissary's stern expression on hearing his name, the poultrydealer deemed himself lost. This was a terrible ending to his plottingthat had never entered into his calculations. The Tuileries wouldnever forgive him! His legs gave way beneath him as though the firingparty was already awaiting him outside. When he got into the street,however, his vanity lent him sufficient strength to walk erect; and heeven managed to force a smile, as he knew the market people werelooking at him. They should see him die bravely, he resolved.However, La Sarriette and Madame Lecoeur rushed up to him andanxiously inquired what was the matter; and the butter dealer began tocry, while La Sarriette embraced her uncle, manifesting the deepestemotion. As Gavard held her clasped in his arms, he slipped a key intoher hand, and whispered in her ear: "Take everything, and burn thepapers."Then he got into the cab with the same mien as he would have ascendedthe scaffold. As the vehicle disappeared round the corner of the RuePierre Lescot, Madame Lecoeur observed La Sarriette trying to hide thekey in her pocket."It's of no use you trying that little game on me, my dear," sheexclaimed, clenching her teeth; "I saw him slip it into your hand. Astrue as there's a God in Heaven, I'll go to the gaol and tell himeverything, if you don't treat me properly.""Of course I shall treat you properly, aunt, dear," replied LaSarriette, with an embarrassed smile."Very well, then, let us go to his rooms at once. It's of no use togive the police time to poke their dirty hands in the cupboards."Mademoiselle Saget, who had been listening with gleaming eyes,followed them, running along in the rear as quickly as her short legscould carry her. She had no thought, now, of waiting for Florent. Fromthe Rue Rambuteau to the Rue de la Cossonnerie she manifested the mosthumble obsequiousness, and volunteered to explain matters to MadameLeonce, the doorkeeper."We'll see, we'll see," the butter dealer curtly replied.However, on reaching the house a preliminary parley--as MademoiselleSaget had opined--proved to be necessary. Madame Leonce refused toallow the women to go up to her tenant's room. She put on anexpression of severe austerity, and seemed greatly shocked by thesight of La Sarriette's loosely fastened fichu. However, after the oldmaid had whispered a few words to her and she was shown the key, shegave way. When they got upstairs she surrendered the rooms andfurniture to the others article by article, apparently as heartbrokenas if she had been compelled to show a party of burglars the placewhere her own money was secreted."There, take everything and have done with it!" she cried at last,throwing herself into an arm-chair.La Sarriette was already eagerly trying the key in the locks ofdifferent closets. Madame Lecoeur, all suspicion, pressed her soclosely that she exclaimed: "Really, aunt, you get in my way. Do leavemy arms free, at any rate."At last they succeeded in opening a wardrobe opposite the window,between the fireplace and the bed. And then all four women broke intoexclamations. On the middle shelf lay some ten thousand francs ingold, methodically arranged in little piles. Gavard, who had prudentlydeposited the bulk of his fortune in the hands of a notary, had keptthis sum by him for the purposes of the coming outbreak. He had beenwont to say with great solemnity that his contribution to therevolution was quite ready. The fact was that he had sold out certainstock, and every night took an intense delight in contemplating thoseten thousand francs, gloating over them, and finding something quiteroysterous and insurrectional in their appearance. Sometimes when hewas in bed he dreamed that a fight was going on in the wardrobe; hecould hear guns being fired there, paving-stones being torn up andpiled into barricades, and voices shouting in clamorous triumph; andhe said to himself that it was his money fighting against theGovernment.La Sarriette, however, had stretched out her hands with a cry ofdelight."Paws off, little one!" exclaimed Madame Lecoeur in a hoarse voice.As she stood there in the reflection of the gold, she looked yellowerthan ever--her face discoloured by biliousness, her eyes glowingfeverishly from the liver complaint which was secretly underminingher. Behind her Mademoiselle Saget on tip-toe was gazing ecstaticallyinto the wardrobe, and Madame Leonce had now risen from her seat, andwas growling sulkily."My uncle said I was to take everything," declared the girl."And am I to have nothing, then; I who have done so much for him?"cried the doorkeeper.Madame Lecoeur was almost choking with excitement. She pushed theothers away, and clung hold of the wardrobe, screaming: "It allbelongs to me! I am his nearest relative. You are a pack of thieves,you are! I'd rather throw it all out of the window than see you haveit!"Then silence fell, and they all four stood glowering at each other.The kerchief that La Sarriette wore over her breast was now altogetherunfastened, and she displayed her bosom heaving with warm life, hermoist red lips, her rosy nostrils. Madame Lecoeur grew still more souras she saw how lovely the girl looked in the excitement of her longingdesire."Well," she said in a lower tone, "we won't fight about it. You arehis niece, and I'll divide the money with you. We will each take apile in turn."Thereupon they pushed the other two aside. The butter dealer took thefirst pile, which at once disappeared within her skirts. Then LaSarriette took a pile. They kept a close watch upon one another, readyto fight at the slightest attempt at cheating. Their fingers werethrust forward in turn, the hideous knotted fingers of the aunt andthe white fingers of the niece, soft and supple as silk. Slowly theyfilled their pockets. When there was only one pile left, La Sarrietteobjected to her aunt taking it, as she had commenced; and she suddenlydivided it between Mademoiselle Saget and Madame Leonce, who hadwatched them pocket the gold with feverish impatience."Much obliged to you!" snarled the doorkeeper. "Fifty francs forhaving coddled him up with tisane and broth! The old deceiver told mehe had no relatives!"Before locking the wardrobe up again, Madame Lecoeur searched itthoroughly from top to bottom. It contained all the political workswhich were forbidden admission into the country, the pamphlets printedat Brussels, the scandalous histories of the Bonapartes, and theforeign caricatures ridiculing the Emperor. One of Gavard's greatestdelights was to shut himself up with a friend, and show him all thesecompromising things."He told me that I was to burn all the papers," said La Sarriette."Oh, nonsense! we've no fire, and it would take up too long. Thepolice will soon be here! We must get out of this!"They all four hastened off; but they had not reached the bottom of thestairs before the police met them, and made Madame Leonce return withthem upstairs. The three others, making themselves as small aspossible, hurriedly escaped into the street. They walked away insingle file at a brisk pace; the aunt and niece considerablyincommoded by the weight of their drooping pockets. Mademoiselle Sagethad kept her fifty francs in her closed fist, and remained deep inthought, brooding over a plan for extracting something more from theheavy pockets in front of her."Ah!" she exclaimed, as they reached the corner of the fish market,"we've got here at a lucky moment. There's Florent yonder, just goingto walk into the trap."Florent, indeed, was just then returning to the markets after hisprolonged perambulation. He went into his office to change his coat,and then set about his daily duties, seeing that the marble slabs wereproperly washed, and slowly strolling along the alleys. He fanciedthat the fish-wives looked at him in a somewhat strange manner; theychuckled too, and smiled significantly as he passed them. Some newvexation, he thought, was in store for him. For some time past thosehuge, terrible women had not allowed him a day's peace. However, as hepassed the Mehudins' stall he was very much surprised to hear the oldwoman address him in a honeyed tone: "There's just been a gentlemaninquiring for you, Monsieur Florent; a middle-aged gentleman. He'sgone to wait for you in your room."As the old fish-wife, who was squatting, all of a heap, on her chair,spoke these words, she felt such a delicious thrill of satisfiedvengeance that her huge body fairly quivered. Florent, still doubtful,glanced at the beautiful Norman; but the young woman, now completelyreconciled with her mother, turned on her tap and slapped her fish,pretending not to hear what was being said."You are quite sure?" said Florent to Mother Mehudin."Oh, yes, indeed. Isn't that so, Louise?" said the old woman in ashriller voice.Florent concluded that it must be some one who wanted to see him aboutthe great business, and he resolved to go up to his room. He was justabout to leave the pavilion, when, happening to turn round, heobserved the beautiful Norman watching him with a grave expression onher face. Then he passed in front of the three gossips."Do you notice that there's no one in the pork shop?" remarkedMademoiselle Saget. "Beautiful Lisa's not the woman to compromiseherself."The shop was, indeed, quite empty. The front of the house was stillbright with sunshine; the building looked like some honest, prosperouspile guilelessly warming itself in the morning rays. Up above, thepomegranate on the balcony was in full bloom. As Florent crossed theroadway he gave a friendly nod to Logre and Monsieur Lebigre, whoappeared to be enjoying the fresh air on the doorstep of the latter'sestablishment. They returned his greeting with a smile. Florent wasthen about to enter the side-passage, when he fancied he saw Auguste'spale face hastily vanishing from its dark and narrow depths. Thereuponhe turned back and glanced into the shop to make sure that the middle-aged gentleman was not waiting for him there. But he saw no one butMouton, who sat on a block displaying his double chin and bristlingwhiskers, and gazed at him defiantly with his great yellow eyes. Andwhen he had at last made up his mind to enter the passage, Lisa's faceappeared behind the little curtain of a glazed door at the back of theshop.A hush had fallen over the fish market. All the huge paunches andbosoms held their breath, waiting till Florent should disappear fromsight. Then there was an uproarious outbreak; and the bosoms heavedwildly and the paunches nearly burst with malicious delight. The jokehad succeeded. Nothing could be more comical. As old Mother Mehudinvented her merriment she shook and quivered like a wine-skin that isbeing emptied. Her story of the middle-aged gentleman went the roundof the market, and the fish-wives found it extremely amusing. At lastthe long spindle-shanks was collared, and they would no longer alwayshave his miserable face and gaol-bird's expression before their eyes.They all wished him a pleasant journey, and trusted that they mightget a handsome fellow for their next inspector. And in their delightthey rushed about from one stall to another, and felt inclined todance round their marble slabs like a lot of holiday-makingschoolgirls. The beautiful Norman, however, watched this outbreak ofjoy in a rigid attitude, not daring to move for fear she should burstinto tears; and she kept her hands pressed upon a big skate to coolher feverish excitement."You see how those Mehudins turn their backs upon him now that he'scome to grief," said Madame Lecoeur."Well, and they're quite right too," replied Mademoiselle Saget."Besides, matters are settled now, my dear, and we're to have no moredisputes. You've every reason to be satisfied; leave the others to actas they please.""It's only the old woman who is laughing," La Sarriette remarked; "LaNormande looks anything but happy."Meantime, upstairs in his bedroom, Florent allowed himself to be takenas unresistingly as a sheep. The police officers sprang roughly uponhim, expecting, no doubt, that they would meet with a desperateresistance. He quietly begged them to leave go of him; and then satdown on a chair while they packed up his papers, and the red scarves,armlets, and banners. He did not seem at all surprised at this ending;indeed, it was something of a relief to him, though he would notfrankly confess it. But he suffered acutely at thought of the bitterhatred which had sent him into that room; he recalled Auguste's paleface and the sniggering looks of the fish-wives; he bethought himselfof old Madame Mehudin's words, La Normande's silence, and the emptyshop downstairs. The markets were leagued against him, he reflected;the whole neighbourhood had conspired to hand him over to the police.The mud of those greasy streets had risen up all around to overwhelmhim!And amidst all the round faces which flitted before his mind's eyethere suddenly appeared that of Quenu, and a spasm of mortal agonycontracted his heart."Come, get along downstairs!" exclaimed one of the officers, roughly.Florent rose and proceeded to go downstairs. When he reached thesecond floor he asked to be allowed to return; he had forgottensomething, he said. But the officers refused to let him go back, andbegan to hustle him forward. Then he besought them to let him returnto his room again, and even offered them the money he had in hispocket. Two of them at last consented to return with him, threateningto blow his brains out should he attempt to play them any trick; andthey drew their revolvers out of their pockets as they spoke. However,on reaching his room once more Florent simply went straight to thechaffinch's cage, took the bird out of it, kissed it between itswings, and set it at liberty. He watched it fly away through the openwindow, into the sunshine, and alight, as though giddy, on the roof ofthe fish market. Then it flew off again and disappeared over themarkets in the direction of the Square des Innocents. For a momentlonger Florent remained face to face with the sky, the free and opensky; and he thought of the wood-pigeons cooing in the garden of theTuileries, and of those other pigeons down in the market cellars withtheir throats slit by Marjolin's knife. Then he felt quite broken, andturned and followed the officers, who were putting their revolversback into their pockets as they shrugged their shoulders.On reaching the bottom of the stairs, Florent stopped before the doorwhich led into the kitchen. The commissary, who was waiting for himthere, seemed almost touched by his gentle submissiveness, and askedhim: "Would you like to say good-bye to your brother?"For a moment Florent hesitated. He looked at the door. A tremendousnoise of cleavers and pans came from the kitchen. Lisa, with thedesign of keeping her husband occupied, had persuaded him to make theblack-puddings in the morning instead of in the evening, as was hiswont. The onions were simmering on the fire, and over all the noisyuproar Florent could hear Quenu's joyous voice exclaiming, "Ah, dashit all, the pudding will be excellent, that it will! Auguste, hand methe fat!"Florent thanked the commissary, but refused his offer. He was afraidto return any more into that warm kitchen, reeking with the odour ofboiling onions, and so he went on past the door, happy in the thoughtthat his brother knew nothing of what had happened to him, andhastening his steps as if to spare the establishment all furtherworry. However, on emerging into the open sunshine of the street hefelt a touch of shame, and got into the cab with bent back and ashenface. He was conscious that the fish market was gazing at him intriumph; it seemed to him, indeed, as though the whole neighbourhoodhad gathered there to rejoice at his fall."What a villainous expression he's got!" said Mademoiselle Saget."Yes, indeed, he looks just like a thief caught with his hand insomebody's till," added Madame Lecoeur."I once saw a man guillotined who looked exactly like he does,"asserted La Sarriette, showing her white teeth.They stepped forward, lengthened their necks, and tried to see intothe cab. Just as it was starting, however, the old maid tugged sharplyat the skirts of her companions, and pointed to Claire, who was cominground the corner of the Rue Pirouette, looking like a mad creature,with her hair loose and her nails bleeding. She had at last succeededin opening her door. When she discovered that she was too late, andthat Florent was being taken off, she darted after the cab, butchecked herself almost immediately with a gesture of impotent rage,and shook her fists at the receding wheels. Then, with her face quitecrimson beneath the fine plaster dust with which she was covered, sheran back again towards the Rue Pirouette."Had he promised to marry her, eh?" exclaimed La Sarriette, laughing."The silly fool must be quite cracked."Little by little the neighbourhood calmed down, though throughout theday groups of people constantly assembled and discussed the events ofthe morning. The pork shop was the object of much inquisitivecuriosity. Lisa avoided appearing there, and left the counter incharge of Augustine. In the afternoon she felt bound to tell Quenu ofwhat had happened, for fear the news might cause him too great a shockshould he hear it from some gossiping neighbour. She waited till shewas alone with him in the kitchen, knowing that there he was alwaysmost cheerful, and would weep less than if he were anywhere else.Moreover, she communicated her tidings with all sorts of motherlyprecautions. Nevertheless, as soon as he knew the truth he fell on thechopping-block, and began to cry like a calf."Now, now, my poor dear, don't give way like that; you'll makeyourself quite ill," exclaimed Lisa, taking him in her arms.His tears were inundating his white apron, the whole of his massive,torpid form quivered with grief. He seemed to be sinking, meltingaway. When he was at last able to speak, he stammered: "Oh, you don'tknow how good he was to me when we lived together in the Rue Royer-Collard! He did everything. He swept the room and cooked the meals. Heloved me as though I were his own child; and after his day's work heused to come back splashed with mud, and so tired that he couldscarcely move, while I stayed warm and comfortable in the house, andhad nothing to do but eat. And now they're going to shoot him!"At this Lisa protested, saying that he would certainly not be shot.But Quenu only shook his head."I haven't loved him half as much as I ought to have done," hecontinued. "I can see that very well now. I had a wicked heart, and Ihesitated about giving him his half of the money.""Why, I offered it to him a dozen times and more!" Lisa interrupted."I'm sure we've nothing to reproach ourselves with.""Oh, yes, I know that you are everything that is good, and that youwould have given him every copper. But I hesitated, I didn't like topart with it; and now it will be a sorrow to me for the rest of mylife. I shall always think that if I'd shared the fortune with him hewouldn't have gone wrong a second time. Oh, yes; it's my fault! It isI who have driven him to this."Then Lisa, expostulating still more gently, assured him that he hadnothing to blame himself for, and even expressed some pity forFlorent. But he was really very culpable, she said, and if he had hadmore money he would probably have perpetrated greater follies.Gradually she gave her husband to understand that it was impossiblematters could have had any other termination, and that now everythingwould go on much better. Quenu was still weeping, wiping his cheekswith his apron, trying to suppress his sobs to listen to her, and thenbreaking into a wilder fit of tears than before. His fingers hadmechanically sought a heap of sausage-meat lying on the block, and hewas digging holes in it, and roughly kneading it together."And how unwell you were feeling, you know," Lisa continued. "It wasall because our life had got so shifted out of its usual course. I wasvery anxious, though I didn't tell you so, at seeing you getting solow.""Yes, wasn't I?" he murmured, ceasing to sob for a moment."And the business has been quite under a cloud this year. It was asthough a spell had been cast on it. Come, now, don't take on so;you'll see that everything will look up again now. You must take careof yourself, you know, for my sake and your daughter's. You haveduties to us as well as to others, remember."Quenu was now kneading the sausage-meat more gently. Another burst ofemotion was thrilling him, but it was a softer emotion, which wasalready bringing a vague smile to his grief-stricken face. Lisa feltthat she had convinced him, and she turned and called to Pauline, whowas playing in the shop, and sat her on Quenu's knee."Tell your father, Pauline, that he ought not to give way like this.Ask him nicely not to go on distressing us so."The child did as she was told, and their fat, sleek forms united in ageneral embrace. They all three looked at one another, already feelingcured of that twelve months' depression from which they had but justemerged. Their big, round faces smiled, and Lisa softly repeated, "Andafter all, my dear, there are only we three, you know, only we three."Two months later Florent was again sentenced to transportation. Theaffair caused a great stir. The newspapers published all possibledetails, and gave portraits of the accused, sketches of the bannersand scarves, and plans of the places where the conspirators had met.For a fortnight nothing but the great plot of the central markets wastalked of in Paris. The police kept on launching more and morealarming reports, and it was at last even declared that the whole ofthe Montmartre Quarter was undermined. The excitement in the CorpsLegislatif was so intense that the members of the Centre and the Rightforgot their temporary disagreement over the Imperial Grant Bill, andbecame reconciled. And then by an overwhelming majority they voted theunpopular tax, of which even the lower classes, in the panic which wassweeping over the city, dared no longer complain.The trial lasted a week. Florent was very much surprised at the numberof accomplices with which he found himself credited. Out of the twentyand more who were placed in the dock with him, he knew only some sixor seven. After the sentence of the court had been read, he fancied hecould see Robine's innocent-looking hat and back going off quietlythrough the crowd. Logre was acquitted, as was also Lacaille;Alexandre was sentenced to two years' imprisonment for his child-likecomplicity in the conspiracy; while as for Gavard, he, like Florent,was condemned to transportation. This was a heavy blow, which quitecrushed him amidst the final enjoyment that he derived from thoselengthy proceedings in which he had managed to make himself soconspicuous. He was paying very dearly for the way in which he hadvented the spirit of perpetual opposition peculiar to the Parisshopkeeping classes. Two big tears coursed down his scared face--theface of a white-haired child.And then one morning in August, amidst the busy awakening of themarkets, Claude Lantier, sauntering about in the thick of the arrivingvegetables, with his waist tightly girded by his red sash, came tograsp Madame Francois's hand close by Saint Eustache. She was sittingon her carrots and turnips, and her long face looked very sad. Theartist, too, was gloomy, notwithstanding the bright sun which wasalready softening the deep-green velvet of the mountains of cabbages."Well, it's all over now," he said. "They are sending him back again.He's already on his way to Brest, I believe."Madame Francois made a gesture of mute grief. Then she gently wavedher hand around, and murmured in a low voice; "Ah, it is all Paris'sdoing, this villainous Paris!""No, no, not quite that; but I know whose doing it is, thecontemptible creatures!" exclaimed Claude, clenching his fists. "Doyou know, Madame Francois, there was nothing too ridiculous for thosefellows in the court to say! Why, they even went ferreting in achild's copy-books! That great idiot of a Public Prosecutor made atremendous fuss over them, and ranted about the respect due tochildren, and the wickedness of demagogical education! It makes mequite sick to think of it all!"A shudder of disgust shook him, and then, burying himself more deeplyin his discoloured cloak, he resumed: "To think of it! A man who wasas gentle as a girl! Why, I saw him turn quite faint at seeing apigeon killed! I couldn't help smiling with pity when I saw himbetween two gendarmes. Ah, well, we shall never see him again! Hewon't come back this time.""He ought to have listened to me," said Madame Francois, after apause, "and have come to live at Nanterre with my fowls and rabbits. Iwas very fond of him, you see, for I could tell that he was a good-hearted fellow. Ah, we might have been so happy together! It's a sadpity. Well, we must bear it as best we can, Monsieur Claude. Come andsee me one of these days. I'll have an omelet ready for you."Her eyes were dim with tears; but all at once she sprang up like abrave woman who bears her sorrows with fortitude."Ah!" she exclaimed, "here's old Mother Chantemesse coming to buy someturnips of me. The fat old lady's as sprightly as ever!"Claude went off, and strolled about the footways. The dawn had risenin the white sheaf of light at the end of the Rue Rambuteau; and thesun, now level with the house-tops, was diffusing rosy rays whichalready fell in warm patches on the pavements. Claude was conscious ofa gay awakening in the huge resonant markets--indeed, all over theneighbourhood--crowded with piles of food. It was like the joy thatcomes after cure, the mirth of folks who are at last relieved of aheavy weight which has been pulling them down. He saw La Sarriettedisplaying a gold chain and singing amidst her plums and strawberries,while she playfully pulled the moustaches of Monsieur Jules, who wasarrayed in a velvet jacket. He also caught sight of Madame Lecoeur andMademoiselle Saget passing along one of the covered ways, and lookingless sallow than usual--indeed, almost rosy--as they laughed likebosom friends over some amusing story. In the fish market, old MadameMehudin, who had returned to her stall, was slapping her fish, abusingcustomers, and snubbing the new inspector, a presumptuous young manwhom she had sworn to spank; while Claire, seemingly more languid andindolent than ever, extended her hands, blue from immersion in thewater of her tanks, to gather together a great heap of edible snails,shimmering with silvery slime. In the tripe market Auguste andAugustine, with the foolish expression of newly-married people, hadjust been purchasing some pigs' trotters, and were starting off in atrap for their pork shop at Montrouge. Then, as it was now eighto'clock and already quite warm, Claude, on again coming to the RueRambuteau, perceived Muche and Pauline playing at horses. Muche wascrawling along on all-fours, while Pauline sat on his back, and clungto his hair to keep herself from falling. However, a moving shadowwhich fell from the eaves of the market roof made Claude look up; andhe then espied Cadine and Marjolin aloft, kissing and warmingthemselves in the sunshine, parading their loves before the wholeneighbourhood like a pair of light-hearted animals.Claude shook his fist at them. All this joyousness down below and onhigh exasperated him. He reviled the Fat; the Fat, he declared, hadconquered the Thin. All around him he could see none but the Fatprotruding their paunches, bursting with robust health, and greetingwith delight another day of gorging and digestion. And a last blow wasdealt to him by the spectacle which he perceived on either hand as hehalted opposite the Rue Pirouette.On his right, the beautiful Norman, or the beautiful Madame Lebigre,as she was now called, stood at the door of her shop. Her husband hadat length been granted the privilege of adding a State tobaccoagency[*] to his wine shop, a long-cherished dream of his which he hadfinally been able to realise through the great services he hadrendered to the authorities. And to Claude the beautiful MadameLebigre looked superb, with her silk dress and her frizzed hair, quiteready to take her seat behind her counter, whither all the gentlemenin the neighbourhood flocked to buy their cigars and packets oftobacco. She had become quite distinguished, quite the lady. The shopbehind her had been newly painted, with borders of twiningvine-branches showing against a soft background; the zinc-platedwine-counter gleamed brightly, and in the tall mirror the flasks ofliqueurs set brighter flashes of colour than ever. And the mistress ofall these things stood smiling radiantly at the bright sunshine.[*] Most readers will remember that the tobacco trade is a Statemonopoly in France. The retail tobacconists are merely Governmentagents.--Translator.Then, on Claude's left, the beautiful Lisa blocked up the doorway ofher shop as she stood on the threshold. Never before had her linenshone with such dazzling whiteness; never had her serene face and rosycheeks appeared in a more lustrous setting of glossy locks. Shedisplayed the deep calmness of repletion, a massive tranquillityunruffled even by a smile. She was a picture of absolute quietude, ofperfect felicity, not only cloudless but lifeless, the simple felicityof basking in the warm atmosphere. Her tightly stretched bodice seemedto be still digesting the happiness of yesterday; while her dimpledhands, hidden in the folds of her apron, did not even trouble to graspat the happiness of to-day, certain as they were that it would come ofitself. And the shop-window at her side seemed to display the samefelicity. It had recovered from its former blight; the tongues lolledout, red and healthy; the hams had regained their old chubbiness ofform; the festoons of sausages no longer wore that mournful air whichhad so greatly distressed Quenu. Hearty laughter, accompanied by ajubilant clattering of pans, sounded from the kitchen in the rear. Thewhole place again reeked with fat health. The flitches of bacon andthe sides of pork that hung against the marble showed roundly likepaunches, triumphant paunches, whilst Lisa, with her imposing breadthof shoulders and dignity of mien, bade the markets good morning withthose big eyes of hers which so clearly bespoke a gross feeder.However, the two women bowed to each other. Beautiful Madame Lebigreand beautiful Madame Quenu exchanged a friendly salute.And then Claude, who had certainly forgotten to dine on the previousday, was thrilled with anger at seeing them standing there, looking sohealthy and well-to-do with their buxom bosoms; and tightening hissash, he growled in a tone of irritation:"What blackguards respectable people are!"