Alarmed by her cries, the man retreated a step; and clenching his fist at Madame de Fermont, he said:
"You shall pay me for this, mind. I will come back to-night and wring your tongue out, and then you can't squall out."
And the Gros-Boiteux, as he was called at the Isle du Ravageur, went down the staircase, uttering horrible threats.
Madame de Fermont, fearing that he might return, and seeing that the lock was broken, dragged the table across the room, in order to barricade it. Claire had been so alarmed, so agitated, at this horrible scene, that she had fallen on her bed almost senseless, and overcome by a nervous attack. Her mother, forgetting her own fears, ran to her, embraced her, gave her a little water to drink, and by her caresses and attentions revived her. When she saw her gradually recovering she said to her:
"Calm yourself; don't be alarmed, my dearest child, this wicked man has gone." Then the unfortunate mother exclaimed, in a tone of indescribable indignation and grief, "And it is that notary who is the first cause of all our sufferings."
Claire looked about her with as much astonishment as fear.
"Take courage, my child," said Madame de Fermont, embracing her tenderly; "the wretch has gone."
"Oh, mamma, if he should come back again! You see, though you cried so loud for help, no one came. Oh, pray let us leave this house, or I shall die with fear!"
"How you tremble; you are quite in a fever."
"No, no," said the young girl, to reassure her mother, "it is nothing—only fright,—and that will soon pass away. And you,—how do you feel? Give me your hands. Oh, how they burn! It is, indeed, you who are suffering; and you try to conceal it from me!"