Jean listened with his eyes on the ground; then, after reflecting for a long time, he took the young man's hand, saying:
"Emile, you mustn't tell these lies; they are unworthy of a man. I see that your father is more crafty than crazy, and that he won't be satisfied with two or three vague words, such as we sometimes say to soothe a man who has drunk too much and whom we treat like a child. Your father, when you have lied to him, or made promises that you can't keep, won't let you breathe, and if you try to become a man again he will say: 'Remember, that you're nobody now?' He is proud and hard; I know it well. He won't give you one day a week to think in your own way, and, more than that, he will make your wife unhappy. I can see it all: he will make you blush before her, and he will play his cards so well that she will finally blush for you. To the devil with all lies and words you don't mean! None of that, Emile; I forbid it."
"But Gilberte?"
"Gilberte will say as I do, and so will Antoine and Janille. Ma mie Janille can say what she pleases. For my part, I don't propose that you shall lie. There's no Gilberte who could make me lie."
"Then I must give her up—not see her any more?"
"That is a misfortune," said Jean, firmly; "but when misfortune is upon us, we must bear it. Go and see Monsieur de Boisguilbault; he will say the same as I do, for, according to all you have told me of him, he is a man who takes a just view of things and whose ideas are good."
"Well, Jean, I have seen Monsieur de Boisguilbault, and he realizes that the sacrifice is beyond my strength."
"Does he know that you love Gilberte? Oho! did you tell him?"
"He knows that I am in love, but I didn't mention her name."
"And he advised you to lie?"