"Try," said Joseph, sneering.
"That's enough!" said the Head-Woodsman, striking the table with his heavy hand, "Hold your tongues, both of you, and as there is no frankness in you, Joseph, I shall have enough for the two. You misjudged in your heart the woman you wished to love; that is a wrong that God can pardon, for it is not always easy for a man to be trustful or distrustful in his friendships; but it is, unfortunately, a wrong that cannot be repaired. You fell into that blunder; you must accept the consequences and submit to them."
"Why so, master?" said Joseph, setting up his back like an angry cat, "who will tell the wrong to Brulette? she has not known or suffered from it."
"No one," said Huriel, "I am not a blackguard."
"Then who will tell it?" demanded Joseph.
"Yourself," said Père Bastien.
"What can make me?"
"The consciousness of your love for her. Doubt never comes singly. You may get over the first twinge, but there comes a second, which will issue from your lips at the first words you say to her."
"In fact, I think it has happened already, Joseph," said I, "for this very evening you offended the person we are speaking of."
"Perhaps I did," he said haughtily, "but that is between her and me. If I choose that she shall return to me what makes you think she will not return? I remember my master's song,—the music is beautiful and the words are true,—'Gifts are for those who pray.' Well, Huriel, go ahead. Ask in words and I will ask in music, and we will see whether or no I can't win her back again. Come, play fair, you who blame what you call my crooked ways. The game is between us, and we'll have no shuffling. A fine house has more than one door, and we'll each knock at the one that suits us."