—Ah, what a pity! In the asparagus-bed! He has crushed some, no doubt…
—Yes, in the asparagus-bed. The mark of his feet is distinctly visible.
Suzanne could contain herself no longer. Her self-possession deserted her, and she felt that her strength was going also. She believed that her father knew all, she saw herself lost, and, to conceal her shame and hide her terror, she buried herself under the bed-clothes, sobbing, and saying:
—Ah, papa! Ah, papa!
The old soldier mistook her terror, her despair and her tears.
—Come, he cried, confound it, Suzanne, are you mad? Don't cry like this, little girl, don't cry like this, like a fool: I only wanted to know if you had heard anything.
—No, father, sobbed Suzanne under her bed-clothes.
—You did not hear him? Well! very good. That is all, confound it. Another time we will keep our eyes open, that is all.
But the shock had been too great, and Suzanne continued to utter sobs; she decided, however, to show her face all bathed in tears, and said to her father in a reproachful tone:
—And besides I did not know what you meant with your night-robber and your asparagus-bed; I was fast asleep, and you woke me up with a start to tell me that.