"Urbain, you will madden me! What do I care for all this?"
Adélaïde made a few steps and let herself fall into a chair.
"Patience!" he said; and there was something solemn, almost awful, in the way he stretched out his right hand to her. "We hastened back to La Marinière, and found no Angelot there. Then I began to think that Joseph's fears of the police might not be exaggerated—Angelot escaped from them on the very day he was arrested—the man who arrested him, why, I cannot discover, was that fellow Simon, the spy, and according to Joseph he has been watching the woods ever since. I went out, for I could not rest indoors, and as I walked down the road I met Monsieur le Curé and Martin Joubard, coming from Lancilly. I turned back with the old man, and he told me his story."
He stopped and drew a long breath.
"I hardly listened to the details," he said. "But by some means Hervé had heard of the expected order—and—distrusting all the world, it seems, even you, his wife, he sent for the Curé at midnight and forced him to celebrate the marriage. Ah, Monsieur le Général, you may well take it hardly; yet I do not believe you are more angry than I am."
"As to that, monsieur," said Ratoneau, glaring at him with savage fury, "I believe you have played me false and arranged the whole affair. Your scamp of a son has escaped the prison he richly deserved, and you have plotted to marry him to your cousin's daughter. I always thought you as clever as the devil, monsieur. But look here—and you too, madame, listen to me. I will ruin the whole set of you—and as to that boy of yours, let him beware how he meets me. I swear I will be his death."
Urbain shrugged his shoulders and turned from him to Adélaïde, who was beckoning feebly and could hardly find voice to speak.
"I am very stupid, I suppose," she said. "I cannot understand clearly. My husband has forced on Hélène's marriage with some one. Who is it, Urbain? Did the Curé tell you? Do not be afraid to tell me—I can bear it—you were always my friend."
There was something so unnatural in her manner, so terrible and stony in her look, that Urbain turned pale and hesitated.
"Mon Dieu!" he murmured. "You do not understand!"