heard then!"

"I will murder that man," said Goriot quietly. "But he has only one
life, and he deserves to die twice.--And then, what next?" he added,
looking at Anastasie.

"Then," the Countess resumed, "there was a pause, and he looked at me.
'Anastasie,' he said, 'I will bury this in silence; there shall be no
separation; there are the children. I will not kill M. de Trailles. I
might miss him if we fought, and as for other ways of getting rid of
him, I should come into collision with the law. If I killed him in your
arms, it would bring dishonor on _those_ children. But if you do not
want to see your children perish, nor their father nor me, you must
first of all submit to two conditions. Answer me. Have I a child of my
own?' I answered, 'Yes,'--'Which?'--'Ernest, our eldest boy.'--'Very
well,' he said, 'and now swear to obey me in this particular from this
time forward.' I swore. 'You will make over your property to me when I
require you to do so.'"

"Do nothing of the kind!" cried Goriot. "Aha! M. de Restaud, you could
not make your wife happy; she has looked for happiness and found it
elsewhere, and you make her suffer for your own ineptitude? He will have
to reckon with me. Make yourself easy, Nasie. Aha! he cares about his
heir! Good, very good. I will get hold of the boy; isn't he my grandson?
What the blazes! I can surely go to see the brat! I will stow him away
somewhere; I will take care of him, you may be quite easy. I will bring
Restaud to terms, the monster! I shall say to him, 'A word or two with
you! If you want your son back again, give my daughter her property, and
leave her to do as she pleases.'"

"Father!"

"Yes. I am your father, Nasie, a father indeed! That rogue of a great
lord had better not ill-treat my daughter. _Tonnerre!_ What is it in my
veins? There is the blood of a tiger in me; I could tear those two men
to pieces! Oh! children, children! so this is what your lives are! Why,
it is death!... What will become of you when I shall be here no longer?
Fathers ought to live as long as their children. Ah! Lord God in heaven!
how ill Thy world is ordered! Thou hast a Son, if what they tell us
is true, and yet Thou leavest us to suffer so through our children. My
darlings, my darlings! to think that trouble only should bring you to
me, that I should only see you with tears on your faces! Ah! yes, yes,
you love me, I see that you love me. Come to me and pour out your griefs
to me; my heart