om, acknowledging his errors, declaring that "youth is
presumptuous," and that "great citizens say nothing, reflect in silence,
and let insults pass by, in order to rise heroically when the day of
struggle comes." He was particularly pleased with this sentence. His
mother thought his article extremely well written. She kissed her dear
child, and placed him on her right hand. The Marquis de Carnavant, weary
of incarcerating himself, and full of eager curiosity, had likewise come
to see her, and stood on her left, leaning on the window rail.

When Monsieur de Bleriot offered his hand to Rougon on the square below
Felicite began to weep. "Oh! see, see," she said to Aristide. "He has
shaken hands with him. Look! he is doing it again!" And casting a glance
at the windows, where groups of people were congregated, she added: "How
wild they must be! Look at Monsieur Peirotte's wife, she's biting
her handkerchief. And over there, the notary's daughter, and Madame
Massicot, and the Brunet family, what faces, eh? how angry they look!
Ah, indeed, it's our turn now."

She followed the scene which was being acted outside the Sub-Prefecture
with thrills of delight, which shook her ardent, grasshopper-like figure
from head to foot. She interpreted the slightest gesture, invented words
which she was unable to catch, and declared that Pierre bowed very well
indeed. She was a little vexed when the prefect deigned to speak to poor
Granoux, who was hovering about him fishing for a word of praise. No
doubt Monsieur de Bleriot already knew the story of the hammer, for the
retired almond-dealer turned as red as a young girl, and seemed to
be saying that he had only done his duty. However, that which angered
Felicite still more was her husband's excessive amiability in presenting
Vuillet to the authorities. Vuillet, it is true, pushed himself forward
amongst them, and Rougon was compelled to mention him.

"What a schemer!" muttered Felicite. "He creeps in everywhere. How
confused my poor dear husband must be! See, there's the colonel speaking
to him. What can he be saying to him?"

"Ah! little one," the marquis replied with a touch of irony, "he is
complimenting him for having closed the gates so carefully."

"My father has saved the town," Aristide retorted curtly. "Have you seen
the corpses, sir?"

Monsieur de Carnavant did not answer. He withdrew from the window, and
sat down in an arm-chair, shaking his head with an air of some disgust