ondet went off to write letters. He had lost the careless gayety of
his first arrival, and was now uneasy and preoccupied; but he had no
vague presentiments like those of Madame Michaud; he was, rather, in
full expectation of certain foreseen misfortunes. He said to himself,
"This affair will come to some bad end; and if the general does not
take decisive action and will not abandon a battle-field where he is
overwhelmed by numbers there must be a catastrophe; and who knows who
will come out safe and sound,--perhaps neither he nor his wife. Good
God! that adorable little creature! so devoted, so perfect! how can he
expose her thus! He thinks he loves her! Well, I'll share their danger,
and if I can't save them I'll suffer with them."

CHAPTER VIII. RURAL VIRTUE

That night Marie Tonsard was stationed on the road to Soulanges, sitting
on the rail of a culvert waiting for Bonnebault, who had spent the day,
as usual, at the Cafe de la Paix. She heard him coming at some distance,
and his step told her that he was drunk, and she knew also that he had
lost money, for he always sang if he won.

"Is that you, Bonnebault?"

"Yes, my girl."

"What's the matter?"

"I owe twenty-five francs, and they may wring my neck twenty-five times
before I can pay them."

"Well, I know how you can get five hundred," she said in his ear.

"Oh! by killing a man; but I prefer to live."

"Hold your tongue. Vaudoyer will give us five hundred francs if you will
let him catch your mother at a tree."

"I'd rather kill a man than sell my mother. There's your old
grandmother; why don't you sell her?"

"If I tried to, my father would get angry and stop the trick."

"That's true. Well, anyhow, my mother sha'n't go to prison, poor old
thing! She cooks my food and keeps me in clothes, I'm sure I don't know
how. Go to prison,--and through me! I shouldn't have any bowels within
me; no, no! And for fear any one else should sell her, I'll tell her
this very night not to kill any more trees."

"Well, my father may say and do what he likes, but I shall tell him
there are five hundred francs to be had, and perhaps he'll ask my
grandmother if she'll earn them. They'll never put an old woman
seventy-eight years of age in prison,--though, to be sure, she'd be
better off there than in her garret."

"Five hundred francs! well, yes; I'll speak to my mother," said
Bonnebault, "and if it suits her to give 'em to me, I'll let her have
part to take