“Can it be that you have been to the war?” asked another.
“What a gay cavalier you are,” declared a third.
“May you live to grow old,” cried Fadard, sarcastically.
“Stop!” shouted Firmin, at last, “or you will be sorry.”
“About what?”
“Well, you just wait long enough and he will do you up in the same way, Monsieur; and then we shall see how much there is to your boasted bravery. You are as much of a poacher as anybody.”
“Look out—here comes Savin’s wife.”
“Well, she will shut his mouth quick enough.”
Firmin seized a bottle and brandished it over the head of Nicolas, the last speaker. Andoche interposed, and Firmin, availing himself of the opportunity to escape, ran out of the inn and soon overtook Catherine on the road. She greeted him with an air of hauteur.
“I know what a coward you are,” she said. “I see I can look to you for nothing.”