workmen.'

At this jest of his the unbelieving peasant burst into a loud guffaw,
slapped his thighs, coughed, and almost choked himself.

'It was not for the church I came,' replied the Abbe Mouret. 'I wanted
to speak to you about your daughter Rosalie.'

'Rosalie? What has she done to you, then?' inquired Bambousse, his eyes
blinking.

The girl was boldly staring at the young priest, scrutinising his white
hands and slender, feminine neck, as if trying to make him redden.
He, however, bluntly and with unruffled countenance, as if speaking of
something quite indifferent, continued:

'You know what I mean, Bambousse. She must get married.'

'Oh, that's it, is it?' muttered the old man, with a bantering look.
'Many thanks for the message. The Brichets sent you, didn't they? Mother
Brichet goes to mass, and so you give her a helping hand to marry her
son--it's all very fine. But, I've got nothing to do with that. It
doesn't suit me. That's all.'

Thereupon the astonished priest represented to him that the scandal
must be stopped, and that he ought to forgive Fortune, as the latter was
willing to make reparation for his transgression, and that, lastly, his
daughter's reputation demanded a speedy marriage.

'Ta, ta, ta,' replied Bambousse, what a lot of words! I shall keep my
daughter, please understand it. All that's got nothing to do with me.
That Fortune is a beggarly pauper, without a brass farthing. What an
easy job, if one could marry a girl like that! At that rate we should
have all the young things marrying off morning and night. Thank Heaven!
I'm not worried about Rosalie: everybody knows what has happened; but
it makes no difference. She can marry any one she chooses in the
neighbourhood.'

'But the child?' interrupted the priest.

'The child indeed! There'll be time enough to think of that when it's
born.'

Rosalie, perceiving the turn the priest's application was taking, now
thought it proper to ram her fists into her eyes and whimper. And she
even let herself fall upon the ground.

'Shut up, will you, you hussy!' howled her father in a rage. And he
proceeded to revile her in the coarsest terms, which made her laugh
silently behind her clenched fists.

'You won't shut up? won't you? Just wait a minute then, you jade!'
continued old Bambousse. And thereupon he picked up a clod of earth and
flung it at her. It burst upon her knot of hair, crumbling down her neck
and smothering her in dust. Dizzy fr