His words brought me no joy. A cloud settled before my eyes. At the end of half an hour, as though his mind had been made up, he questioned me adroitly as to our relations, our place of meeting, our next rendezvous. All of which information I gave him, without mistrust. The second day he came to me and said:
“What are you doing this afternoon? Nothing? Wait for me in Talbot’s wood, by the old spring. I’ve got a line on a honey tree. Meet me at four.”
“At four. I’ll be there,” I answered, not without surprise.
I installed myself in the wood at the appointed time and shortly afterward, hearing familiar voices, I sprang up and perceived Jenny on the arm of my brother. My first thought was that he was bringing her to me in sign of allegiance. The next moment, to my astonishment, I saw her fling her arms about his neck and kiss him passionately, very differently from the furtive embraces she had vouchsafed me.
The next moment I was before them, with murder in my heart. The girl sprang back with a cry. My hands reached Ben’s throat and we went to the ground. In my rage I understood but one thing,—that what he had done he had done deliberately, after having put to sleep my suspicions by an attitude of false acquiescence. My next impulse was the most tragic and instinctive hatred which can blind the reason of a human being,—the wild jealousy of brother against brother. At the thought that the girl could so easily have preferred him after all that had been between us, all the love that I had for him turned to the blackest fury, and I believe that for a short moment if I could have killed him I would have done so. The minx stood by, no longer frightened, but delighted in her vanity at the sight of our struggling over her.
At first Ben had burst out laughing, defending himself from my frantic rage but, little by little, under the sting of my blows, he too lost his head. We rolled over and over, clawing at each other frantically, striking out blindly. I was no match for him then in strength, and at the end I found myself on my back, my arms pinned under his knees, looking up into his bruised face.
Suddenly he bent down and cried angrily:
“You little fool! Is that the sort of wife you want to bring home!”
“You made her do it!” I cried, and in my rage I almost succeeded in freeing myself. He exerted all his strength and brought me back to earth.
“Made her do it! A girl that’s engaged to you? Do you want to be the laughingstock of the country?”