had been her Victor, her
sole affection, the only one in whom she had faith. She had ever striven
to believe that he was very busy, absorbed in work, and on the eve of
attaining to some superb position worthy of his merits. And now, all at
once, she had learnt that this fondly loved son was simply the most
odious of assassins, that he had flung a bomb into a cafe, and had there
killed three men.

When Madame Mathis had recovered her senses, thanks to the careful
tending of Mere-Grand, she sobbed on without cessation, raising such a
continuous doleful wail, that Pierre's hand again sought Guillaume's, and
grasped it, whilst their hearts, distracted but healed, mingled lovingly
one with the other.

V. LIFE'S WORK AND PROMISE

FIFTEEN months later, one fine golden day in September, Bache and
Theophile Morin were taking _dejeuner_ at Guillaume's, in the big
workroom overlooking the immensity of Paris.

Near the table was a cradle with its little curtains drawn. Behind them
slept Jean, a fine boy four months old, the son of Pierre and Marie. The
latter, simply in order to protect the child's social rights, had been
married civilly at the town-hall of Montmartre. Then, by way of pleasing
Guillaume, who wished to keep them with him, and thus enlarge the family
circle, they had continued living in the little lodging over the
work-shop, leaving the sleepy house at Neuilly in the charge of Sophie,
Pierre's old servant. And life had been flowing on happily for the
fourteen months or so that they had now belonged to one another.

There was simply peace, affection and work around the young couple.
Francois, who had left the Ecole Normale provided with every degree,
every diploma, was now about to start for a college in the west of
France, so as to serve his term of probation as a professor, intending to
resign his post afterwards and devote himself, if he pleased, to science
pure and simple. Then Antoine had lately achieved great success with a
series of engravings he had executed--some views and scenes of Paris
life; and it was settled that he was to marry Lise Jahan in the ensuing
spring, when she would have completed her seventeenth year. Of the three
sons, however, Thomas was the most triumphant, for he had at last devised
and constructed his little motor, thanks to a happy idea of his father's.
One morning, after the downfall of all his huge chimerical schemes,
Guillaume, remembering the terrible explosive which he