"Yes; but I would rather frighten him by quarreling and fighting; if I do not then succeed, I'll try the other way."
"And if the other way don't answer, mother?" said Nicholas.
"There is still another, which always does," replied the widow.
Suddenly the door opened and Martial entered. It blew so hard outside that they had not heard the barking of the dogs announcing the arrival of the gallows widow's first-born.
CHAPTER XXIII.
MOTHER AND SON.
Ignorant of these evil designs, Martial slowly entered into the kitchen.
A few words of La Louve, in her conversation with Fleur-de-Marie, have already informed us of the singular life of this man. Endowed with good natural instincts, incapable of an action positively bad or wicked, Martial did not conduct himself as he should have done. He fished contrary to law, and his strength and audacity inspired so much terror in the river-keepers, that they shut their eyes on his proceedings.
The lover of La Louve resembled Francois and Amandine very much; he was of middling stature, but robust and broad-shouldered; his thick, red hair, cut short, laid in points on his open forehead; his thick, heavy beard, his large cheeks, square nose, bold blue eyes, gave to him a singularly resolute expression.
He wore an old tarpaulin glazed hat; and, notwithstanding the cold, had nothing on but a wretched blouse over his well-worn vest and coarse velveteen trousers. He held in his hand an enormous knotty stick, which he placed alongside of him on the table.