"Dead or alive, I'll have you!" he blurted out threateningly.
Jacqueline watched him leave the farm, heaving a sigh of relief. Then as she turned round, quivering all over, she did not seem at all surprised to see Jean; but, in an outburst of frankness, exclaimed:
"Ah, the villain! I would have him marched off by the gendarmes, if I weren't afraid that they would lock me up with him."
Jean was frozen with horror by what he had just heard, and could not find a word to say. The young woman, too, now underwent a nervous reaction. She seemed to be suffocating, and fell into Jean's arms, sobbing and wailing that she was very wretched—oh, so very wretched and miserable! Her tears continued to flow in streams down her face; she seemed craving for sympathy and love, and clung to Jean as though she were yearning for him to take her away and protect her. The young man was beginning to feel very uncomfortable, when the dead farmer's brother-in-law, Monsieur Baillehache, who had been fetched by one of the farm-servants, sprang out of his gig in the yard. Jacqueline at once rushed off to him and paraded her despair.
Jean, making his escape from the kitchen, presently found himself again on the bare plain beneath a rainy March sky. But he scarcely knew where he was, being completely upset by the tragedy of Hourdequin's death, which added another pang to all his troubles. However, he had his own load of worry to bear, and, despite his sorrow for his old master's fate, he quickened his steps, thinking of his own interests. It was no business of his to hand La Cognette and her lover over to justice. The authorities ought to open their eyes. Twice he turned round, fancying he heard some one shouting after him, and vaguely feeling as though he were an accomplice in the murder. It was only when he reached the outskirts of Rognes that he again breathed freely; he said to himself that the farmer's death was the result of his own sin; and he pondered anent that great truth that men would be much happier if there were no women in the world. His mind reverted to Françoise, and a big lump seemed to rise in his throat and nearly choke him.
When he found himself in the village again he recollected that he had gone to the farm to seek work. He now began to feel very uneasy, and racked his brains as to whom he could next apply to. Then it struck him that Monsieur Charles had been looking out for a gardener recently. Why should he not go and offer his services? He was still, in a way, somewhat of the family, and perhaps that might be a recommendation. So he hastened off in the direction of Roseblanche.
It was one o'clock, and Monsieur and Madame Charles were just finishing their late breakfast as the servant introduced him. Elodie was pouring out the black coffee, and Monsieur Charles, making his cousin sit down, asked him to take a cup. Jean accepted it; he had eaten nothing since the previous evening, and his stomach felt very drawn. The coffee would do him good. Now that he found himself sitting at table with this well-to-do family, he could not bring himself to ask point-blank for the gardener's place. He must wait for an opportunity. As Madame Charles began to sympathise with him and to bewail poor Françoise's death, he felt very melancholy and depressed again. The family evidently believed that he had come to say good-bye to them.
The servant soon came into the room again to say that the Delhommes, father and son, had called; and Jean was quite forgotten.
"Show them in here, and bring two more cups," said Monsieur Charles.