"My God! Monsieur—I have conducted myself—it is true—like a——"
But the old man would not listen to him. Anger, furious anger, had taken possession of him, and he advanced toward Bretigny, with clenched fists, repeating:
"Ah! bougrrre of a savage——"
Then, when they were nose to nose, he seized Paul by the collar with his knotted peasant's hands.
But the other, as tall, and strong with that superior strength acquired by the practice of athletics, freed himself with a single push from the countryman's grip, and, pushing him up against the wall:
"Listen, Père Oriol, this is not a matter for us to fight about, but to settle quietly. It is true, I was embracing your daughter. I swear to you that this is the first time—and I swear to you, too, that I desire to marry her."
The old man, whose physical excitement had subsided under the assault of his adversary, but whose anger had not yet been calmed, stuttered:
"Ha! that's how it is! You want to steal my daughter; you want my money. Bougrrre of a deceiver!"
Thereupon, he allowed all that was on his mind to escape from him in a heap of grumbling words. He found no consolation for the dowry promised with his elder girl, for his vinelands going into the hands of these Parisians. He now had his suspicions as to Gontran's want of money, Andermatt's craft, and, without forgetting the unexpected fortune which the banker brought him, he vented his bile and his secret rancor against those mischievous people who did not let him sleep any longer in peace.
One would have thought that his family and his friends were coming every night to plunder him, to rob him of everything, his lands, his springs, and his daughters. And he cast these reproaches into Paul's face, accusing him also of wanting to get hold of his property, of being a rogue, and of taking Charlotte in order to have his lands.