“For all that,” said the peasant, “madame is little Emile’s mother; there’s your mamma, my boy!”
“Her!” cried the child, gazing at Thélénie in dismay. “I don’t want her for my mother; she’d beat me!”
“Still, I suppose madame will take back her son.”
“No, she will not take him back,” said Beauregard, “for, as you see, she never had the sentiments of a mother. But I will keep him, as I have the right to do, for I am his father!”
“His father!” was heard on all sides.
“What’s that! his father?” cried Chamoureau. “I say! what does all this mean? my wife has children, monsieur is their father, and——”
“Shut up, Chamoureau!” said Freluchon. “Don’t you see that all this doesn’t concern you? I advise you to pretend to be dead!”
“Now,” continued Beauregard, “I have nothing more to say to madame, whom I have been asking for a long time what she had done with this child.—Come, nurse, I will settle your account.—Monsieur Duronceray, chance brings me into your presence to-day. I no longer deserve to take your hand, I know, since I betrayed long ago the friendship that united us. But perhaps you will forgive me to-day, when you reflect that at all events I served to enlighten you concerning madame’s sentiments.”
As he concluded, Beauregard bowed low to Paul, who coldly returned his bow, but was obliged to hold Ami, who growled savagely and seemed determined to attack that gentleman.
Beauregard departed, with his son and Jacqueline. Paul then said to the people of Chelles who were present: