f a commander
of a squadron of the dragoons of the Guard!"

"She has paid me back all that she owed me," cried Agathe, rising and
turning an angry face to her son; "and besides, that is my affair. You
have killed her. Go away, my son," she added, with a gesture that took
all her remaining strength, "and never let me see you again. You are a
monster."

"I kill her?"

"Her trey has turned up," cried Joseph, "and you stole the money for her
stake."

"Well, if she is dying of a lost trey, it isn't I who have killed her,"
said the drunkard.

"Go, go!" said Agathe. "You fill me with horror; you have every vice. My
God! is this my son?"

A hollow rattle sounded in Madame Descoings's throat, increasing
Agathe's anger.

"I love you still, my mother,--you who are the cause of all my
misfortunes," said Philippe. "You turn me out of doors on Christmas-day.
What did you do to grandpa Rouget, to your father, that he should drive
you away and disinherit you? If you had not displeased him, we should
all be rich now, and I should not be reduced to misery. What did you do
to your father,--you who are a good woman? You see by your own self, I
may be a good fellow and yet be turned out of house and home,--I, the
glory of the family--"

"The disgrace of it!" cried the Descoings.

"You shall leave this room, or you shall kill me!" cried Joseph,
springing on his brother with the fury of a lion.

"My God! my God!" cried Agathe, trying to separate the brothers.

At this moment Bixiou and Haudry the doctor entered. Joseph had just
knocked his brother over and stretched him on the ground.

"He is a regular wild beast," he cried. "Don't speak another word, or
I'll--"

"I'll pay you for this!" roared Philippe.

"A family explanation," remarked Bixiou.

"Lift him up," said the doctor, looking at him. "He is as ill as Madame
Descoings; undress him and put him to bed; get off his boots."

"That's easy to say," cried Bixiou, "but they must be cut off; his legs
are swollen."

Agathe took a pair of scissors. When she had cut down the boots, which
in those days were worn outside the clinging trousers, ten pieces of
gold rolled on the floor.

"There it is,--her money," murmured Philippe. "Cursed fool that I was, I
forgot it. I too have missed a fortune."

He was seized with a horrible delirium of fever, and began to rave.
Joseph, assisted by old Desroches, who had come back, and by Bixiou,
carried him to his room. Doctor Haudry w