"Yes, there are cowards who get children murdered! Let him go and look for mine in the earth if he wants to give it me back!"
She was forgetting her man in prison, for the household was going on since Bouteloup remained; but she thought of him, however, and went on in a shrill voice:
"Get along! rascals may walk about while good people are put away!"
In avoiding her, Étienne tumbled on to Pierronne, who was running up across the gardens. She had regarded her mother's death as a deliverance, for the old woman's violence threatened to get them hanged; nor did she weep over Pierron's little girl, that street-walker Lydie—a good riddance. But she joined in with her neighbours with the idea of getting reconciled with them.
"And my mother, eh, and the little girl? You were seen; you were hiding yourself behind them when they caught the lead instead of you!"
What was to be done? Strangle Pierronne and the others, and fight the whole settlement? Étienne wanted to do so for a moment. The blood was throbbing in his head, he now looked upon his mates as brutes, he was irritated to see them so unintelligent and barbarous that they wanted to revenge themselves on him for the logic of facts. How stupid it all was! and he felt disgust at his powerlessness to tame them again; and satisfied himself with hastening his steps as though he were deaf to abuse. Soon it became a flight; every house hooted him as he passed, they hastened on his heels, it was a whole nation cursing him with a voice that was becoming like thunder in its overwhelming hatred. It was he, the exploiter, the murderer, who was the sole cause of their misfortune. He rushed out of the settlement, pale and terrified, with this yelling crowd behind his back. When he at last reached the main road most of them left him; but a few persisted, until at the bottom of the slope before the Avantage he met another group coming from the Voreux.
Old Mouque and Chaval were there. Since the death of his daughter Mouquette, and of his son Mouquet, the old man had continued to act as groom without a word of regret or complaint. Suddenly, when he saw Étienne, he was shaken by fury, tears broke out from his eyes, and a flood of coarse words burst from his mouth, black and bleeding from his habit of chewing tobacco.
"You devil! you bloody swine! you filthy snout! Wait, you've got to pay me for my poor children; you'll have to come to it!"
He picked up a brick, broke it, and threw both pieces.
"Yes! yes! clear him off!" shouted Chaval, who was grinning in excitement, delighted at this vengeance. "Every one gets his turn; now you're up against the wall, you dirty hound!"