flint and a
harsh, stern taskmaster; he had gone into the butchering business from
sordid love of lucre, and his cart was to be seen daily, rain or shine,
on the roads of twenty communes; but if the child was willing to work
she would have a home and a protector, perhaps some small prospect in
the future. At all events she would be spared the contamination of the
factory. And naturally enough it came to pass that in old Fouchard's
household the son and heir and the little maid of all work fell in love
with each other. Honore was then just turned sixteen and she was twelve,
and when she was sixteen and he twenty there was a drawing for the army;
Honore, to his great delight, secured a lucky number and determined
to marry. Nothing had ever passed between them, thanks to the unusual
delicacy that was inherent in the lad's tranquil, thoughtful nature,
more than an occasional hug and a furtive kiss in the barn. But when
he spoke of the marriage to his father, the old man, who had the
stubbornness of the mule, angrily told him that his son might kill him,
but never, never would he consent, and continued to keep the girl about
the house, not worrying about the matter, expecting it would soon blow
over. For two years longer the young folks kept on adoring and desiring
each other, and never the least breath of scandal sullied their names.
Then one day there was a frightful quarrel between the two men, after
which the young man, feeling he could no longer endure his father's
tyranny, enlisted and was packed off to Africa, while the butcher still
retained the servant-maid, because she was useful to him. Soon after
that a terrible thing happened: Silvine, who had sworn that she would be
true to her lover and await his return, was detected one day, two short
weeks after his departure, in the company of a laborer who had been
working on the farm for some months past, that Goliah Steinberg, the
Prussian, as he was called; a tall, simple young fellow with short,
light hair, wearing a perpetual smile on his broad, pink face, who had
made himself Honore's chum. Had Father Fouchard traitorously incited
the man to take advantage of the girl? or had Silvine, sick at heart and
prostrated by the sorrow of parting with her lover, yielded in a moment
of unconsciousness? She could not tell herself; was dazed, and saw
herself driven by the necessity of her situation to a marriage with
Goliah. He, for his part, always with the everlasting smile on h