Fortunately—unfortunately, perhaps—his hand was arrested by the recollection of a phrase which he had heard his father repeat a thousand times:
“Calmness and irony are the only weapons worthy of the strong.”
And he possessed sufficient strength of will to appear calm, while, in reality, he was beside himself with passion. It was Martial who lost his self-control, and who threatened him.
“Ah! yes, I will find you again, upstart!” repeated Maurice, through his set teeth as he watched his enemy move away.
For Martial had turned and discovered that Marie-Anne and her father had left him. He saw them standing about a hundred paces from him. Although he was surprised at their indifference, he made haste to join them, and addressed M. Lacheneur.
“We are just going to your father’s house,” was the response he received, in an almost ferocious tone.
A glance from Marie-Anne commanded silence. He obeyed, and walked a few steps behind them, with his head bowed upon his breast, terribly anxious, and seeking vainly to explain what had passed.
His attitude betrayed such intense sorrow that his mother divined it as soon as she caught sight of him.
All the anguish which this courageous woman had hidden for a month, found utterance in a single cry.
“Ah! here is misfortune!” said she, “we shall not escape it.”