"Yes, a coward's! Instead of remaining with us to support us, you went off to Rambouillet, to poach in the woods with that man who sells game whom you knew at Bercy."
"If I had remained here, I should have been at the galleys like Ambroise, or on the point of going there like Nicholas. I would not be a robber like the rest, and that is the cause of your hatred."
"And what track are you following now? You steal game, you steal fish,—thefts without danger,—a coward's thefts!"
"Fish, like game, is no man's property. To-day belongs to one, to-morrow to another. It is his who can take it. I don't steal. As to being a coward—"
"Why, you fight—and for money—men who are weaker than yourself."
"Because they have beaten men weaker than themselves."
"A coward's trade,—a coward's trade!"
"Why, there are more honest pursuits, it is true. But it is not for you to tell me this!"
"Then why did you not take up with those honest trades, instead of coming here skulking and feeding out of my saucepans?"
"I give you the fish I catch, and what money I have. It isn't much, but it's enough; and I don't cost you anything. I have tried to be a locksmith to earn more; but when one has from one's infancy led a vagabond life on the river and in the woods, it is impossible to confine oneself to one spot. It is a settled thing, and one's life is decided. And then," added Martial, with a gloomy air, "I have always preferred living alone on the water or in the forest. There no one questions me; whilst elsewhere men twit me about my father, who was (can I deny it?) guillotined,—of my brother, a galley-slave,—of my sister, a thief!"