wring the neck of the villain who put my eye out. Oh! I shall know him
again; he's a little thin, palish fellow, quite young."

Thereupon Pierre bethought himself of the blood he had seen on Silvere's
hand. He stepped back a little, as though he was afraid that Rengade
would fly at his throat, and cry: "It was your nephew who blinded me;
and you will have to pay for it." And whilst he was mentally cursing his
disreputable family, he solemnly declared that if the guilty person were
found he should be punished with all the rigour of the law.

"No, no, it isn't worth all that trouble," the one-eyed man replied;
"I'll just wring his neck for him when I catch him."

Rougon hastened back to the town-hall. The afternoon was employed in
taking various measures. The proclamation posted up about one o'clock
produced an excellent impression. It ended by an appeal to the good
sense of the citizens, and gave a firm assurance that order would not
again be disturbed. Until dusk, in fact, the streets presented a picture
of general relief and perfect confidence. On the pavements, the groups
who were reading the proclamation exclaimed:

"It's all finished now; we shall soon see the troops who have been sent
in pursuit of the insurgents."

This belief that some soldiers were approaching was so general that the
idles of the Cours Sauvaire repaired to the Nice road, in order to
meet and hear the regimental band. But they returned at nightfall
disappointed, having seen nothing; and then a feeling of vague alarm
began to disturb the townspeople.

At the town-hall, the Provisional Commission had talked so much, without
coming to any decision, that the members, whose stomachs were quite
empty, began to feel alarmed again. Rougon dismissed them to dine,
saying that they would meet afresh at nine o'clock in the evening. He
was just about to leave the room himself, when Macquart awoke and began
to pommel the door of his prison. He declared he was hungry, then asked
what time it was, and when his brother had told him it was five o'clock,
he feigned great astonishment, and muttered, with diabolical malice,
that the insurgents had promised to return much earlier, and that they
were very slow in coming to deliver him. Rougon, having ordered
some food to be taken to him, went downstairs, quite worried by the
earnestness with which the rascal spoke of the return of the insurgents.

When he reached the street, his disquietude increased. The town s