comprehended the peril that threatened
him and dreaded the approach of his father. The terrible scene of which
he had been a witness remained in his memory, and affected him like an
illness; at the sound of the count's step his features contracted, and
the mother's ear was not so alert as the instinct of her child. As he
grew older this faculty created by terror increased, until, like the
savages of America, Etienne could distinguish his father's step and hear
his voice at immense distances. To witness the terror with which the
count inspired her thus shared by her child made Etienne the more
precious to the countess; their union was so strengthened that like two
flowers on one twig they bent to the same wind, and lifted their heads
with the same hope. In short, they were one life.

When the count again left home Jeanne was pregnant. This time she gave
birth in due season, and not without great suffering, to a stout boy,
who soon became the living image of his father, so that the hatred of
the count for his first-born was increased by this event. To save her
cherished child the countess agreed to all the plans which her husband
formed for the happiness and wealth of his second son, whom he named
Maximilien. Etienne was to be made a priest, in order to leave the
property and titles of the house of Herouville to his younger brother.
At that cost the poor mother believed she ensured the safety of her
hated child.

No two brothers were ever more unlike than Etienne and Maximilien. The
younger's taste was all for noise, violent exercises, and war, and
the count felt for him the same excessive love that his wife felt for
Etienne. By a tacit compact each parent took charge of the child of
their heart. The duke (for about this time Henri IV. rewarded the
services of the Seigneur d'Herouville with a dukedom), not wishing, he
said, to fatigue his wife, gave the nursing of the youngest boy to
a stout peasant-woman chosen by Beauvouloir, and announced his
determination to bring up the child in his own manner. He gave him,
as time went on, a holy horror of books and study; taught him the
mechanical knowledge required by a military career, made him a good
rider, a good shot with an arquebuse, and skilful with his dagger. When
the boy was big enough he took him to hunt, and let him acquire the
savage language, the rough manners, the bodily strength, and the
vivacity of look and speech which to his mind were the attributes of an
acc