"Who you are?" retorted Fouan. "I know it only too well. I begot you."
Buteau sniggered.
"Ah, you shouldn't have done so!" he replied. "Everybody his turn. There's your blood in me, you know, and I hate to be interfered with. So once more I tell you, leave me alone, or it will be worse for you!"
"For yourself, you mean. I never spoke to my father in such a way."
"Oh, come now, that's a stiff 'un! Why, you would have killed your father if he hadn't died before you had time!"
"You lie, you filthy swine! And, by the Lord God, you shall unsay that this very minute!"
Françoise, for the second time, now tried to interpose; and Lise herself, terrified by this fresh outbreak, made a similar effort. But the two men thrust the women aside, and confronted each other, breathing violently in each other's faces, as they stood there, father against son, boiling over with that spirit of overweening despotism which the one had bequeathed to the other.
Fouan wanted to exalt himself by attempting to regain his old absolute supremacy as head of the family. For half a century, in the days when he still retained his property and authority, his wife, his children, and his cattle had trembled at his word.
"Say that you have lied, you filthy swine; say that you have lied, or I will make you dance, as surely as that candle is burning there!"
Raising his hand, he threatened his son with that gesture which had once made all his family sink to the ground.