ome before the Assize Court. Ah! if only some discriminating bullet had
managed to rid him of that young scoundrel! As his wife had pointed out
to him in the morning, all obstacles had fallen away before him; the
family which had dishonoured him had, at the last moment, worked for his
elevation; his sons Eugene and Aristide, those spend-thrifts, the cost
of whose college life he had so bitterly regretted, were at last paying
interest on the capital expended for their education. And yet the
thought of that wretched Silvere must come to mar his hour of triumph!

While Felicite was running about to prepare the dinner for the evening,
Pierre heard of the arrival of the troops and determined to go and make
inquiries. Sicardot, whom he had questioned on his return, knew nothing;
Pascal must have remained to look after the wounded; as for Silvere, he
had not even been seen by the commander, who scarcely knew him. Rougon
therefore repaired to the Faubourg, intending to make inquiries there
and at the same time pay Macquart the eight hundred francs which he had
just succeeded in raising with great difficulty. However, when he found
himself in the crowded encampment, and from a distance saw the prisoners
sitting in long files on the beams in the Aire Saint-Mittre, guarded by
soldiers gun in hand, he felt afraid of being compromised, and so slunk
off to his mother's house, with the intention of sending the old woman
out to pick up some information.

When he entered the hovel it was almost night. At first the only person
he saw there was Macquart smoking and drinking brandy.

"Is that you? I'm glad of it," muttered Antoine. "I'm growing deuced
cold here. Have you got the money?"

But Pierre did not reply. He had just perceived his son Pascal leaning
over the bed. And thereupon he questioned him eagerly. The doctor,
surprised by his uneasiness, which he attributed to paternal affection,
told him that the soldiers had taken him and would have shot him, had
it not been for the intervention of some honest fellow whom he did not
know. Saved by his profession of surgeon, he had returned to Plassans
with the troops. This greatly relieved Rougon. So there was yet another
who would not compromise him. He was evincing his delight by repeated
hand-shakings, when Pascal concluded in a sorrowful voice: "Oh! don't
make merry. I have just found my poor grandmother in a very dangerous
state. I brought her back this carbine, which she values very