"Come, come, my child," repeated Madame Dubreuil, "let us quit this disgraceful scene." Then, turning towards Fleur-de-Marie, she said:
"As for you, worthless girl, the Almighty will punish you as you deserve for your deceit! That my child, good and virtuous as she is, should ever have been allowed to call you sister or friend. Her sister! You—the very vilest of the vile! the outcast of the most depraved and lost wretches! What hardihood, what effrontery you must have possessed, to dare to show your face among good and honest people, when your proper place would have been along with your bad companions in a prison!"
"Ay, ay!" cried all the labourers at once; "let her be sent off to prison at once. She knows the murderer! Let her be made to declare who and what he is."
"She is most likely his accomplice!"
"You see," exclaimed the widow, doubling her fist in the face of the Goualeuse, "that my words have come true. Justice will overtake you before you can commit other crimes."
"As for you, my good woman," said Madame Dubreuil to the milk-woman, "far from sending you away I shall reward you for the service you have done me in unmasking this infamous girl's real character."
"There, I told you," murmured the voices of the labourers, "our mistress always does justice to every one!"
"Come, Clara," resumed Madame Dubreuil, "let us retire and seek Madame Georges, that she may clear up her share of this disgraceful business, or she and I never meet again; for either she has herself been most dreadfully deceived, or her conduct towards us is of the very worst description."
"But, mother, only look at poor Marie!"
"Oh, never mind her! Let her die of shame, if she likes,—there will be one wicked, hardened girl less in the world. Treat her with the contempt she deserves. I will not suffer you to remain another instant where she is. It is impossible for a young person like you to notice her in any way without disgracing herself."