"If this weather continues," said the peasant, listening to the rain which was falling in torrents, "the streams will fill up this month as they did in March. The Gargilesse is not in good humor and Monsieur Cardonnet may suffer some damage."
"So much the worse," rejoined Monsieur Antoine; "it would be a pity, for he has made some extensive and valuable improvements on that little stream."
"True, but the little stream snaps its fingers at them," replied the peasant, "and for my part I don't think it would be such a great pity."
"Yes it would, yes it would! that man has already spent more than two hundred thousand francs at Gargilesse, and it needs only a fit of temper on the part of the river, as we say, to ruin it all."
"Well, would that be such a great misfortune, Monsieur Antoine?"
"I don't say that it would be an irreparable misfortune for a man who is said to be worth a million," rejoined the châtelain, who in his sincerity persisted in misunderstanding his guest's hostile feeling toward Monsieur Cardonnet; "but it would be a pity none the less."
"And that is just why I should laugh in my sleeve if a little hard luck should make that hole in his purse."
"That's a wicked feeling to have, old fellow! Why should you have a grudge against this stranger? He has never benefited or injured you or me."
"He has injured you, Monsieur Antoine, and me and the whole province. Yes, I tell you that he has done it on purpose and that he will keep on doing it to everybody. Let the buzzard's beak grow and you'll see how he'll come down on your poultry-yard."
"Still your wrong-headed ideas, old fellow! for you have wrong-headed ideas, as I've told you a hundred times. You are down on the man because he's rich. Is that his fault?"