"How many times must I tell you that they are in apprenticeship here?"
The widow articulated these words in such a stern manner that Martial lost all hope of softening this heart of bronze.
"Since it is thus," said he, in a resolute and brief tone, "listen to me in your turn, mother; I remain."
"Ah, ah!"
"Not in this house. I should be murdered by Nicholas, or poisoned by Calabash; but, as I have not the means to lodge elsewhere, the children and I will live in the hovel at the other end of the island: the door is strong; I will make it stronger. Once there, well barricaded, with my gun, my dog, and my club, I fear no one. To-morrow morning I will take away the children; they will come with me, sometimes in my boat, sometimes on the mainland. At night they shall sleep near me in the cabin; we will live on my fishing. This shall continue until I find a place for them; and I will find one."
"Ah! is it so?"
"Neither you, nor my brother, nor Calabash can prevent it. If your thefts and your murders are discovered while I am still on the island, so much the worse; I must run my chance. I shall explain that I returned: that I remained on account of the children, to prevent their becoming rogues. They can judge. But may the thunder crush me if I leave this island, and if the children remain one day more in this house! Yes, I defy you—defy you and yours to drive me from the island!"
The widow knew the resolution of Martial; the children loved their eldest brother as much as they feared him; they would follow him, then, without hesitation, when he wished it. As to him, well armed, resolute, always on his guard—in his boat during the day, barricaded during the in his cabin—he had nothing to fear from any evil designs of his family. The project of Martial could then, on all points, be realized. But the widow had many reasons to prevent the execution.
In the first place, like as honest artisans consider sometimes the number of their children as riches, on account of their services, so the widow counted on Amandine and Francois to assist her in her crimes. Then, what she had said of her desire to avenge her husband and her son was true. Certain beings, nursed, become aged, hardened in crime, enter into open revolt, into a murderous warfare against society, and believe by new acts of guilt to avenge themselves for the just punishment which has overtaken them and theirs. And then, in fine, the wicked designs of Nicholas against Fleur-de-Marie, and still later against the diamond broker, might be defeated by the presence of Martial. The widow had hoped to bring about an immediate separation between herself and Martial, either by fomenting the quarrel with Nicholas, or by revealing to him what risk he ran by remaining on the island. As cunning as she was acute, the widow, perceiving that she was mistaken, felt that it was necessary to have recourse to perfidy to entrap her son in a bloody snare. She resumed then, after a long silence, and with affected bitterness: "I see your plan; you do not wish to denounce us yourself—you wish to do it through the children."