"Then begone, you wretched inebriate. I'll not have intoxicated brutes about my house."
So saying, he seized bewildered Tom, dragged him through the vestibule and hurled him outside, slamming the door after his nephew without even waiting to see what became of him.
Then, wearied and tired out by his exertions, he sank into a chair and began to ponder about this new discovery. He mentally resolved that he would never have a drunkard for his son-in-law.
Then he gradually grew calmer. The reaction was setting in.
He was still engaged in his reflections when he heard a cry. 'Twas his daughter's. He lightened a candle and hastened to open the door, wondering what could have happened. The sight of his nephew lying there, chilled him with terror. Was he dead? Had he killed him? If so, it was the crowning point of all his woes.
How he raised him and sent him home we have already seen.
When Mr. Rougeant was again with his daughter, he kept a dogged silence. She gathered from his demeanour that he had had a frightful shock, but took great care not to question him. Hardly a word was exchanged between them that evening.
Adèle was glad of it, for she had her thoughts occupied with her wedding which was to come off in three weeks.