"Oh, uncle!" broke out the young girl with tears in her eyes. "There are very wicked people ... serpents and vipers."
"They are to be pitied, my child. But I hope you do not refer to wicked people in connection with Maillart's wife?"
"My friend," said Marguerite with embarrassment, "idle talk deserves contempt only. Nevertheless, in times like these idle talk may have serious consequences."
"Well," observed Marcel dejectedly, "I have but an hour to spend with you. I am tired out. I hoped to enjoy some rest. I came full of joy with good news that was to make you happy as it made me. And here it is all spoiled. But these minutes of quiet and relaxation are sweet to me at your side, dear objects of my love."
"These moments are quite rare," said Marguerite sighing, "and they are as precious to us as to you ... do not doubt, beloved Marcel!"
"I know it. Fortunately, you are not one of those spiritless women, whose constant anxieties are a torment to their husbands, who love them and suffer through their uneasiness. No, you are brave. You accept with fortitude the conditions that circumstances raise around us, convinced that my conduct is upright. I see you ever serene, and a smile on your lips. I feel refreshed in your wise and sweet tranquility, and gather new strength for the struggle, for the present my life is one continuous struggle. It is a holy struggle, glorious, fruitful ... but it exhausts ... nevertheless, thanks to you, dear Marguerite, I ever find at our hearth the happy quiet, the confident ease that are to the soul what a peaceful sleep is to the body—"
"Dear Etienne, we shall speak later on the visit of Dame Petronille," Marguerite broke in, fearing to disturb the rest her husband had come in search of in her company. "You have been announcing a good news.... We are waiting for it."
"Yes, I prefer that," answered the provost with a sigh of relief, taking a seat between his wife and Denise, while the latter quietly removed his hat and cloak. "Coming upstairs I told Agnes to place an additional cover at supper."
"Will our son return this evening from the Bastille of St. Antoine?" quickly inquired Marguerite. "Was that the good news you brought us? We shall be glad to see him."
"No, no! Andre will not return before to-morrow morning. He is to keep watch over night at the Bastille with his company of cross-bowmen. My son must put the example of order in the service. He will neglect none of his duties."