“What will the morrow bring forth?” he thought.
XXIII
After a few hours of that leaden sleep which follows great catastrophes, Mme. Favoral and her children were awakened on the morning of the next day, which was Sunday, by the furious clamors of an exasperated crowd. Each one, from his own room, understood that the apartment had just been invaded. Loud blows upon the door were mingled with the noise of feet, the oaths of men, and the screams of women. And, above this confused and continuous tumult, such vociferations as these could be heard:
“I tell you they must be at home!”
“Canailles, swindlers, thieves!”
“We want to go in: we will go in!”
“Let the woman come, then: we want to see her, to speak to her!”
Occasionally there were moments of silence, during which the plaintive voice of the servant could be heard; but almost at once the cries and the threats commenced again, louder than ever. Maxence, being ready first, ran to the parlor, where his mother and sister joined him directly, their eyes swollen by sleep and by tears. Mme. Favoral was trembling so much that she could not succeed in fastening her dress.
“Do you hear?” she said in a choking voice.
From the parlor, which was divided from the dining-room by folding-doors, they did not miss a single insult.