e Grandet was then for the first
time admitted into the terrible secret of the exchange made by Charles
against her daughter's treasure.

"You gave him all!" cried the poor mother, terrified. "What will you say
to your father on New Year's Day when he asks to see your gold?"

Eugenie's eyes grew fixed, and the two women lived through mortal terror
for more than half the morning. They were so troubled in mind that they
missed high Mass, and only went to the military service. In three days
the year 1819 would come to an end. In three days a terrible drama would
begin, a bourgeois tragedy, without poison, or dagger, or the spilling
of blood; but--as regards the actors in it--more cruel than all the
fabled horrors in the family of the Atrides.

"What will become of us?" said Madame Grandet to her daughter, letting
her knitting fall upon her knees.

The poor mother had gone through such anxiety for the past two months
that the woollen sleeves which she needed for the coming winter were not
yet finished. This domestic fact, insignificant as it seems, bore sad
results. For want of those sleeves, a chill seized her in the midst of
a sweat caused by a terrible explosion of anger on the part of her
husband.

"I have been thinking, my poor child, that if you had confided your
secret to me we should have had time to write to Monsieur des Grassins
in Paris. He might have sent us gold pieces like yours; though Grandet
knows them all, perhaps--"

"Where could we have got the money?"

"I would have pledged my own property. Besides, Monsieur des Grassins
would have--"

"It is too late," said Eugenie in a broken, hollow voice. "To-morrow
morning we must go and wish him a happy New Year in his chamber."

"But, my daughter, why should I not consult the Cruchots?"

"No, no; it would be delivering me up to them, and putting ourselves
in their power. Besides, I have chosen my course. I have done right, I
repent of nothing. God will protect me. His will be done! Ah! mother, if
you had read his letter, you, too, would have thought only of him."

The next morning, January 1, 1820, the horrible fear to which mother and
daughter were a prey suggested to their minds a natural excuse by which
to escape the solemn entrance into Grandet's chamber. The winter of
1819-1820 was one of the coldest of that epoch. The snow encumbered the
roofs.

Madame Grandet called to her husband as soon as she heard him stirring
in his chamber, and said,--