"Jacques, you will not do that?"
"You will see."
The young woman, wrapped in her dressing-gown, prepared as usual to embrace her son before going to bed, when she heard heavy walking in the corridor which opened into her apartment.
No doubt it was the step of Jacques Bastien.
Marie listened.
The steps discontinued.
Soon the sound of this heavy walking was succeeded by the noise of two hands, outside the door, groping in the darkness for the lock and key.
Jacques Bastien wished to enter his wife's apartment.
She, knowing the door was locked, at first felt assured, but soon, reflecting that if she did not open the door to her husband, he might in his brutal violence make a loud noise, or perhaps break the door, and by this uproar waken her son and call David down-stairs, and thus bring about a collision, the possible consequences of which filled her with alarm, she decided to open the door. Then, remembering that her son was in the next chamber, and that but a few minutes before all her maternal authority and tenderness were required to prevent an expression of his indignation against Jacques Bastien, she recalled his bitter words, and the resolution with which he uttered them:
"To make an attempt on our happiness, would be to attempt your life, mother, and your life I will defend even against my father."