Still Madame Maubert made no sign, waiting further explanations. She laid down her knitting and took her elbows in her hands, and by gripping her elbows firmly, stopped the trembling he spoke of.
"You don't understand, eh?" he went on sneeringly. "Always thinking of yourself, of your pretty figure, how to keep yourself always here at the bar, pretty and attractive, ready to gossip with all comers. Nothing must interrupt that. You'd done your share, all that was necessary. And I—poor fool—I let you! I didn't insist—I gave in——"
"You wish to say——?" began Madame Maubert at last, breaking her silence.
"Yes! To say just that!" burst out Maubert. "Just that—you coward! When you might have—when you might have—made this out of the question for me." He shook his order for mobilisation. Again there was a noise from the kitchen, again the sound of many young voices, and one voice that ended in a cry, an irritated, angry, querulous howl.
"I see," said Madame Maubert slowly, "five instead of four—five would have made it safe for you—eh? I didn't think of that—at the time."
"Of your own self at the time—as always!" ground out Maubert, very angry. He was a very big man, of the bully type, with a red neck that swelled under his anger, or on the occasions when he had taken too much red wine—which meant that it swelled very often and made him a great brute, and his wife disliked him, and tried to put the zinc counter between them or anything else that gave shelter.
"You selfish coward!" he cried out again, and slammed his fist down, and then raised it again and shook it at her, "You could have saved me from this—this—being mobilised——! Five instead of four! Five instead of four! Then I would have been exempt, no matter what happened! You contemptible——"
He struck at his wife, but missed her. The doorway darkened and two soldiers entered, limping.
"My husband is mobilised," exclaimed Madame Maubert quickly. "His country needs him—he is rather elevated in consequence! Doubtless he will be of the auxiliaries, where there is less danger. Discomfort, perhaps, but less danger. Nevertheless he is regretful," she concluded scornfully. The simple soldiers, home on leave, laughed uproariously. They placed a few sous upon the counter and asked for wine, and drank to Maubert solicitously. Then they all drank together, to one another's good fortune, and to La Patrie.