in had he robbed his mother, steeped his hands in the
foulest intrigues, and lied and lied for many a long year. The Empire
would not pay his debts--that Empire which alone could save him. He
jumped out of bed in his night-shirt, crying: "No; I'll take my gun; I
would rather let the insurgents kill me."

"Well!" Felicite rejoined, with great composure, "you can have that done
to-morrow or the day after; the Republicans are not far off. And that
way will do as well as another to make an end of matters."

Pierre shuddered. It seemed as if some one had suddenly poured a large
pail of cold water over his shoulders. He slowly got into bed again, and
when he was warmly wrapped up in the sheets, he began to cry. This
fat fellow easily burst into tears--gently flowing, inexhaustible
tears--which streamed from his eyes without an effort. A terrible
reaction was now going on within him. After his wrath he became as
weak as a child. Felicite, who had been waiting for this crisis, was
delighted to see him so spiritless, so resourceless, and so humbled
before her. She still preserved silence, and an appearance of distressed
humility. After a long pause, her seeming resignation, her mute
dejection, irritated Pierre's nerves.

"But do say something!" he implored; "let us think matters over
together. Is there really no hope left us?"

"None, you know very well," she replied; "you explained the situation
yourself just now; we have no help to expect from anyone; even our
children have betrayed us."

"Let us flee, then. Shall we leave Plassans to-night--immediately?"

"Flee! Why, my dear, to-morrow we should be the talk of the whole town.
Don't you remember, too, that you have had the gates closed?"

A violent struggle was going on in Pierre's mind, which he exerted to
the utmost in seeking for some solution; at last, as though he felt
vanquished, he murmured, in supplicating tones: "I beseech you, do try
to think of something; you haven't said anything yet."

Felicite raised her head, feigning surprise; and with a gesture of
complete powerlessness she said: "I am a fool in these matters. I don't
understand anything about politics, you've told me so a hundred times."

And then, as her embarrassed husband held his tongue and lowered his
eyes, she continued slowly, but not reproachfully: "You have not kept me
informed of your affairs, have you? I know nothing at all about them, I
can't even give you any advice. It was quite right o