that some reliable person, like the curate, for example, were to whisper
to him that you are the son of Claudet de Buxieres, he would have
scruples, and at last, half on his own account, and half for the sake of
religion, he would begin to treat you like a relative."

"No;" said Claudet, firmly, "these tricky ways do not suit me. Monsieur
Arbillot proposed yesterday that I should do what you advise. He
even offered to inform this gentleman of my relationship to Claude de
Buxieres. I refused, and forbade the notary to open his mouth on the
subject. What! should I play the part of a craven hound before this
younger son whom my father detested, and beg for a portion of the
inheritance? Thank you! I prefer to take myself out of the way at once!"

"You prefer to have your mother beg her bread at strangers' doors!"
replied Manette, bitterly, shedding tears of rage.

"I have already told you, mother, that when one has a good pair of arms,
and the inclination to use them, one has no need to beg one's bread.
Enough said! I am going to Auberive to notify the justice and the
notary."

While Claudet was striding across the woods, the boy carried the luggage
of the newly arrived traveller into the chamber on the first floor, and
Zelie, the small servant, put the sheets on the bed, dusted the room,
and lighted the fire. In a few minutes, Julien was alone in his new
domicile, and began to open his boxes and valises. The chimney, which
had not been used since the preceding winter, smoked unpleasantly, and
the damp logs only blackened instead of burning. The boxes lay
wide open, and the room of the deceased Claude de Buxieres had the
uncomfortable aspect of a place long uninhabited. Julien had seated
himself in one of the large armchairs, covered in Utrecht velvet,
and endeavored to rekindle the dying fire. He felt at loose ends and
discouraged, and had no longer the courage to arrange his clothes in
the open wardrobes, which stood open, emitting a strong odor of decaying
mold.

The slight breath of joyous and renewed life which had animated him on
leaving the Vincart farm, had suddenly evaporated. His anticipations
collapsed in the face of these bristling realities, among which he felt
his isolation more deeply than ever before. He recalled the cordiality
of Reine's reception, and how she had spoken of the difficulties he
should have to encounter. How little he had thought that her forebodings
would come true the very same day!