n the court-yard stood the gig in which Rosalie and her mistress were
to go, and a cart on which the remainder of the furniture and the trunks
were already loaded. Ludivine and old Simon were to stay at the chateau
until its new owner arrived, and then, too old to stay in service any
longer, they were going to their friends to live on their savings and
the pensions Jeanne had given them. Marius had married and left the
chateau long ago.

About eight o'clock a fine, cold rain, which the wind drove in slanting
lines, began to fall, and the furniture on the cart had to be covered
over with tarpaulins. Some steaming cups of coffee stood on the
kitchen-table, and Jeanne sat down and slowly drank hers up; then
rising:

"Let us go," she said.

She began to put on her hat and shawl, while Rosalie put on her
goloshes. A great lump rose in her throat, and she whispered:

"Rosalie, do you remember how it rained the day we left Rouen to come
here?"

She broke off abruptly, pressed her hands to her heart, and fell
backwards in a sort of fit. For more than an hour she lay as if she were
dead, then, when she at length recovered consciousness, she went into
violent hysterics. Gradually she became calmer, but this attack had left
her so weak that she could not rise to her feet. Rosalie, fearing
another attack if they did not get her away at once, went for her son,
and between them, they carried her to the gig, and placed her on the
leather-covered seat. Rosalie got up beside her, wrapped up her legs,
threw a thick cloak over her shoulders, then, opening an umbrella over
her head, cried:

"Make haste, and let's get off, Denis."

The young man climbed up by his mother, sat down with one leg right
outside the gig, for want of room, and started off his horse at a quick
jerky trot, which shook the two women from side to side. As they turned
the corner of the village, they saw someone walking up and down the
road; it was the Abbe Tolbiac, apparently waiting to see their
departure. He was holding up his cassock with one hand to keep it out of
the wet, regardless of showing his thin legs which were encased in black
stockings, and his huge, muddy boots. When he saw the carriage coming he
stopped, and stood on one side to let it pass. Jeanne looked down to
avoid meeting his eyes, while Rosalie, who had heard all about him,
furiously muttered: "You brute, you brute!" and seizing her son's hand,
"Give him a cut with the whip!" she exclaime