soul, began to perceive the
other side of the situation. He mentioned Macquart. How could they
get rid of that blackguard? But Felicite, again fired with enthusiasm,
exclaimed: "Oh! one can't do everything at once. We'll gag him, somehow.
We'll soon find some means or other."

She was now walking to and fro, putting the arm-chairs in order, and
dusting their backs. Suddenly, she stopped in the middle of the room,
and gave the faded furniture a long glance.

"Good Heavens!" she said, "how ugly it is here! And we shall have
everybody coming to call upon us!"

"Bah!" replied Pierre, with supreme indifference, "we'll alter all
that."

He who, the night before, had entertained almost religious veneration
for the arm-chairs and the sofa, would now have willingly stamped on
them. Felicite, who felt the same contempt, even went so far as to
upset an arm-chair which was short of a castor and did not yield to her
quickly enough.

It was at this moment that Roudier entered. It at once occurred to
the old woman that he had become much more polite. His "Monsieur" and
"Madame" rolled forth in delightfully musical fashion. But the other
habitues were now arriving one after the other; and the drawing-room was
fast getting full. Nobody yet knew the full particulars of the events
of the night, and all had come in haste, with wondering eyes and smiling
lips, urged on by the rumours which were beginning to circulate through
the town. These gentlemen who, on the previous evening, had left the
drawing-room with such precipitation at the news of the insurgents'
approach, came back, inquisitive and importunate, like a swarm of
buzzing flies which a puff of wind would have dispersed. Some of
them had not even taken time to put on their braces. They were very
impatient, but it was evident that Rougon was waiting for some one else
before speaking out. He constantly turned an anxious look towards
the door. For an hour there was only significant hand-shaking, vague
congratulation, admiring whispering, suppressed joy of uncertain origin,
which only awaited a word of enlightenment to turn to enthusiasm.

At last Granoux appeared. He paused for a moment on the threshold,
with his right hand pressed to his breast between the buttons of his
frock-coat; his broad pale face was beaming; in vain he strove to
conceal his emotion beneath an expression of dignity. All the others
became silent on perceiving him; they felt that something extraordinary
w