I was full of rage. I sold that day more than two hundred francs' worth of iron, but my indignation against Frichard, and my fear of the sergeant, took away all pleasure in anything. I might have sold ten times more without feeling any better.
"Ah! the rascal!" I said to myself; "he gives me no rest. I shall have no peace in this city."
As the clock struck twelve the market closed, and people went away by the French gate. I shut up my shop and went home, thinking to myself:
"Now I shall be nothing in my own house; this Trubert is going to rule everything. He will look down upon us as if we were Germans or Spaniards."
I was in despair. But in the midst of my despair on the staircase, I suddenly perceived an odor of good things from the kitchen, and I went up in surprise, for I smelt fish and roast, as if it were a feast day.
I was going into the kitchen, when Sorlé appeared and said:
"Go into your chamber, shave yourself, and put on a clean shirt."
I saw, at the same time, that she was dressed in her Sabbath clothes, with her ear-rings, her green skirt, and her red silk neckerchief.
"But why must I shave, Sorlé?" I exclaimed.
"Go quick; you have no time to lose!" replied she.