skill. At first they both indulged in vague
complaints, then Felicite, who was surprised to find Macquart almost
polite, after the violent manner in which he had behaved at her house on
the Sunday evening, assumed a tone of gentle reproach. She deplored
the hatred which severed their families. But, in truth, he had so
calumniated his brother, and manifested such bitter animosity towards
him, that he had made poor Rougon quite lose his head.

"But, dash it, my brother has never behaved like a brother to me,"
Macquart replied, with restrained violence. "Has he ever given me
any assistance? He would have let me die in my hovel! When he behaved
differently towards me--you remember, at the time he gave me two hundred
francs--I am sure no one can reproach me with having said a single
unpleasant word about him. I said everywhere that he was a very
good-hearted fellow."

This clearly signified: "If you had continued to supply me with money,
I should have been very pleasant towards you, and would have helped you,
instead of fighting against you. It's your own fault. You ought to have
bought me."

Felicite understood this so well that she replied: "I know you have
accused us of being hard upon you, because you imagine we are in
comfortable circumstances; but you are mistaken, my dear brother; we are
poor people; we have never been able to act towards you as our hearts
would have desired." She hesitated a moment, and then continued: "If it
were absolutely necessary in some serious contingency, we might perhaps
be able to make a sacrifice; but, truly, we are very poor, very poor!"

Macquart pricked up his ears. "I have them!" he thought. Then, without
appearing to understand his sister-in-law's indirect offer, he detailed
the wretchedness of his life in a doleful manner, and spoke of his
wife's death and his children's flight. Felicite, on her side, referred
to the crisis through which the country was passing, and declared that
the Republic had completely ruined them. Then from word to word she
began to bemoan the exigencies of a situation which compelled one
brother to imprison another. How their hearts would bleed if justice
refused to release its prey! And finally she let slip the word
"galleys!"

"Bah! I defy you," said Macquart calmly.

But she hastily exclaimed: "Oh! I would rather redeem the honour of the
family with my own blood. I tell you all this to show you that we shall
not abandon you. I have come to give you