And he went out, banging the door. The garlands of flowers swayed from the ceiling, and the gilt shields jumped against the walls. Then the great room fell back into its heavy calm.
Souvarine was smoking in his quiet way, seated before the table. After having paced for a moment in silence, Étienne began to relieve his feelings at length. Was it his fault if they had left that fat lazy fellow to come to him? And he defended himself from having ought popularity. He knew not even how it had happened, this friendliness of the settlement, the confidence of the miners, the power which he now had over them. He was indignant at being accused of wishing to bring everything to confusion out of ambition; he struck his chest, protesting his brotherly feelings.
Suddenly he stopped before Souvarine and exclaimed:
"Do you know, if I thought I should cost a drop of blood to a friend, I would go off at once to America!"
The engine-man shrugged his shoulders, and a smile again came on his lips.
"Oh! blood!" he murmured. "What does that matter? The earth has need of it."
Étienne, growing calm, took a chair, and put his elbows on the other side of the table. This fair face, with the dreamy eyes, which sometimes grew savage with a red light, disturbed him, and exercised a singular power over his will. In spite of his comrade's silence, conquered even by that silence, he felt himself gradually absorbed.
"Well," he asked, "what would you do in my place? Am I not right to act as I do? Isn't it best for us to join this association?"
Souvarine, after having slowly ejected a jet of smoke, replied by his favourite word:
"Oh, foolery! but meanwhile it's always so. Besides, their International will soon begin to move. He has taken it up."