Jean picked himself up, and stammering from pain and anger replied:
"All right, I shall go to the magistrate at Châteaudun, and he will see that I am reinstated in my home. And I shall bring an action against you for damages. You'll see me again soon!"
With a parting gesture of menace, he then took himself off, mounting the hill towards the plain. When the other members of the family had seen that matters were coming to blows, they had prudently retired, feeling a wholesome fear of possible legal proceedings.
The Buteaus now broke out into a wild yell of victory. At last they had succeeded in flinging the usurping alien into the street! And they had regained possession of the house! Ah, they had often said that they would have it back, and now they had got it again! The thought that they were once more in possession of the old patrimonial dwelling-place, built so long ago by an ancestor, filled them with such mad delight that they rushed wildly through the rooms, yelling for the mere pleasure of doing so. The children, Laure and Jules, rushed up, and began tapping an old frying-pan. Old Fouan alone remained quiet; he was still sitting on the stone bench, whence he gravely watched the others, with troubled, mournful eyes.
However, Buteau suddenly checked his display of delight and exclaimed:
"God in heaven! he's sloped off up the hill! He may have gone to wreak his spite on the land!"
It was an idiotic fear, but it quite upset him. The thought of the soil returned to him; a sensation of uneasiness mingling with the consciousness of ownership. The soil! Ah, his love for it was more deeply rooted in his vitals even than his love of the house! That strip of land on the hill would fill up the gap between his two mutilated plots; and he would again have his field of seven acres, that fine stretch of land, of which even Delhomme did not possess the equal! Buteau trembled with emotion from head to foot. It was as though he had just regained some dearly beloved mistress whom he had thought lost for ever. With a mad fear that Jean might somehow have carried the land off, wondering whether it might not have already disappeared, seized, too, with an eager desire to view it again, he lost his head and set off running, muttering that he could never feel easy till he knew for certain.
Jean had indeed gone up the hill in order to avoid passing through the village, and on reaching the plateau he had instinctively followed the road towards La Borderie. When Buteau caught sight of him, he was just passing the plot of plough-land, but he did not stop, he merely gave it a glance of mingled sadness and distrust, as though he were mentally accusing it of having brought him into misfortune; for a memory of the past, of the day when he had first spoken to Françoise, had just brought the tears to his eyes. Was it not here, while she was still a romping girl, that La Coliche had dragged her into the lucern? He strode on with downcast head and slackened steps, and Buteau, who was anxiously watching him, suspecting that he was bent upon some malicious piece of revenge, now walked up to the field. For a long time he stood gazing at it. Yes, it was still there, and it seemed just the same as usual, quite unharmed. His heart heaved wildly, and yearned towards it in the delight he felt at again possessing it—this time for ever. He squatted down on his knees, and took up a clod in his hands, crushing it, sniffing it, and then letting it filter through his fingers. Yes, it was his own now! Then he turned homewards again, singing, as though the scent of the soil had intoxicated him.
Jean still tramped on with downcast eyes, without being conscious as to whether his feet were carrying him. His first impulse had been to run to Cloyes to see Monsieur Baillehache, and take steps for getting reinstated in the house. Then his feeling of anger had calmed down. Even if he went back to-day, he would have to leave again to-morrow; so why shouldn't he make up his mind to swallow his wrathful grief and acquiesce in the inevitable? Those wretches, too, had really spoken the truth. He had gone to the house as a poor man, and as a poor man he was leaving it. But what sent a pang through his heart more than aught else, and finally decided him to submit, was the reflection that Françoise's last wish must have been to let things follow this course, since she had not bequeathed her property to him. So he abandoned the idea of taking immediate steps; and by-and-bye as he walked on, whenever his anger rekindled afresh, he merely swore to himself that he would drag the Buteaus into court to recover his half-share of the personal property to which he was entitled as the dead woman's husband. They should see that he wouldn't let himself be fleeced like a sheep!
As he raised his eyes, he was surprised to find himself opposite La Borderie. Prompted by an instinct of which he had been scarcely conscious in his grief, he had made his way to the farm as to a place of refuge. Indeed, if he remained in the neighbourhood, this was the place to find work and food and lodging. Hourdequin had always held him in esteem, and he was sure of being well received.