But what Jacqueline omitted to mention, the matter, indeed, having entirely slipped from her mind in her present trouble, was the dismissal of Soulas, the shepherd, which she had succeeded in effecting on the previous evening. Exasperated at finding him always at her elbow, playing the spy upon her, she accused him of being too old, and no longer competent to perform his duties. The farmer, although he did not agree with this statement, yielded to her wishes; for he was now completely under her domination, content to purchase her goodwill by slave-like submission. Soulas looked his master keenly in the face with his pale eyes as he was dismissed with kindly words and promises for the future, and then he slowly began to relieve his mind anent the hussy who had brought about his discharge. He accused her of dissolute behaviour with Tron and a score of others. He gave full particulars, mentioning the places where she and Tron had met, and declaring that their shameless amours were matter of common notoriety—to such a degree, indeed, that folks said that the master was content to take the servant's leavings, as it was impossible he could be so blind as not to see what was going on. The farmer, overwhelmed with distress and consternation at what he heard, vainly attempted to stop the old man, preferring to remain in ignorance, and fearful of being compelled to turn the young woman out of the house; but Soulas persisted in finishing his indictment, and did not stop until he had specified each separate occasion upon which he had found the two together. Then he felt somewhat soothed and easier in his mind, having at last unburdened himself of his long pent up wrath and spite. Jacqueline knew nothing of this, for Hourdequin had at once rushed into the fields, fearing lest he should strangle her if he came across her in his present mood. When he returned to the house he quietly dismissed Tron, upon the pretext that the young fellow left the yard in a filthily dirty condition. Upon hearing of this, Jacqueline certainly had some suspicions; but she did not venture to plead in the cowherd's favour, contenting herself by obtaining permission that he should remain another night on the premises, and trusting that she would be able to arrange matters in the morning, so that he might stay on. At present the thought of all this had faded away in the presence of that stroke of fate which had shattered the castle in the air so laboriously erected during the last ten years.
Jean was quite alone with her in the kitchen when Tron came in. She had not seen the latter since the previous evening. The other servants, unoccupied and anxious, were wandering about the farm. When she now perceived the big, strapping fellow, with his pinky face, she broke out into a cry—occasioned by the suspicious sort of way in which he came in.
"It is you who opened the trap!" she screamed, and then she suddenly understood the whole matter; Tron meanwhile standing by, with pale face, staring eyes, and open, trembling lips.
"It was you who opened the trap, and then called to him to come down, so that he might break his neck!"
Jean started back, quite overcome by what he had just heard. In the violence of their passionate agitation neither of the others seemed to notice his presence. With his head lowered Tron sullenly confessed the crime.
"Yes," he said, "I did it. He had dismissed me, and I should never have seen you again, and that was more than I could bear. And then I thought that if he were to die we should be free."
Jacqueline listened to him, erect and rigid, her whole body in a state of acute nervous tension. He went on complacently, revealing the thoughts that had sprung up in his savage breast, the fierce jealousy of a servant against his master, and the treacherous plan which he had formed to secure unshared possession of the woman he loved.
"I felt sure that you would be pleased when it was over," said he; "I didn't mention it to you beforehand, because I didn't want to cause you any worry. But now that he's out of the way, I've come to take you off. We'll go away together and get married."
Jacqueline, wild with anger, now broke out in a harsh voice:
"Marry you! But I don't love you! I won't have you! Ah! so you killed him to get me? You must be even a greater fool than I thought you were! To act so stupidly before he had married me, before he had made his will! You have ruined me! You have taken the bread out of my mouth. It is my back, mine, that you have broken! Can you understand that much, now, you idiotic brute? And you imagine that I will go away with you? Why, you must take me for an arrant fool!"