s every minute."

In the middle of this flux of words, screamed rather than said, Socquard
took Marie round the waist and flung her out of the door, in spite of
her cries and resistance. It was none too soon; for Bonnebault rushed
out of the billiard-room, his eyes blazing.

"It sha'n't end so!" cried Marie Tonsard.

"Begone!" shouted Bonnebault, whom Viollet held back round the body lest
he should do the girl some hurt. "Go to the devil, or I will never speak
to you or look at you again!"

"You!" said Marie, flinging him a furious glance. "Give me back my
money, and I'll leave you to Mademoiselle Socquard if she is rich enough
to keep you."

Thereupon Marie, frightened when she saw that even Socquard-Alcides
could scarcely hold Bonnebault, who sprang after her like a tiger, took
to flight along the road.

Rigou followed, and told her to get into his carriole to escape
Bonnebault, whose shouts reached the hotel Soudry; then, after hiding
Marie under the leather curtains, he came back to the cafe to drink his
lemonade and examine the group it now contained, composed of Plissoud,
Amaury, Viollet, and the waiter, who were all trying to pacify
Bonnebault.

"Come, hussar, it's your turn to play," said Amaury, a small, fair young
man, with a dull eye.

"Besides, she's taken herself off," said Viollet.

If any one ever betrayed astonishment it was Plissoud when he beheld
the usurer of Blangy sitting at one of the tables, and more occupied in
watching him, Plissoud, than in noticing the quarrel that was going on.
In spite of himself, the sheriff allowed his face to show the species
of bewilderment which a man feels at an unexpected meeting with a person
whom he hates and is plotting against, and he speedily withdrew into the
billiard-room.

"Adieu, Pere Socquard," said Rigou.

"I'll get your carriage," said the innkeeper; "take your time."

"How shall I find out what those fellows have been saying over their
pool?" Rigou was asking himself, when he happened to see the waiter's
face in the mirror beside him.

The waiter was a jack at all trades; he cultivated Socquard's vines,
swept out the cafe and the billiard-room, kept the garden in order, and
watered the Tivoli, all for fifty francs a year. He was always without a
jacket, except on grand occasions; usually his sole garments were a pair
of blue linen trousers, heavy shoes, and a striped velvet waistcoat,
over which he wore an apron of homespun linen when at