f you, though; women
chatter sometimes, and it is a thousand times better for the men to
steer the ship alone."

She said this with such refined irony that her husband did not detect
that she was deriding him. He simply felt profound remorse. And, all of
a sudden, he burst out into a confession. He spoke of Eugene's letters,
explained his plans, his conduct, with all the loquacity of a man who
is relieving his conscience and imploring a saviour. At every moment
he broke off to ask: "What would you have done in my place?" or else
he cried, "Isn't that so? I was right, I could not act otherwise." But
Felicite did not even deign to make a sign. She listened with all the
frigid reserve of a judge. In reality she was tasting the most exquisite
pleasure; she had got that sly-boots fast at last; she played with him
like a cat playing with a ball of paper; and he virtually held out his
hands to be manacled by her.

"But wait," he said hastily, jumping out of bed. "I'll give you Eugene's
correspondence to read. You can judge the situation better then."

She vainly tried to hold him back by his night-shirt. He spread out the
letters on the table by the bed-side, and then got into bed again, and
read whole pages of them, and compelled her to go through them herself.
She suppressed a smile, and began to feel some pity for the poor man.

"Well," he said anxiously, when he had finished, "now you know
everything. Do you see any means of saving us from ruin!"

She still gave no answer. She appeared to be pondering deeply.

"You are an intelligent woman," he continued, in order to flatter her,
"I did wrong in keeping any secret from you; I see it now."

"Let us say nothing more about that," she replied. "In my opinion, if
you had enough courage----" And as he looked at her eagerly, she broke
off and said, with a smile: "But you promise not to distrust me any
more? You will tell me everything, eh? You will do nothing without
consulting me?"

He swore, and accepted the most rigid conditions. Felicite then got into
bed; and in a whisper, as if she feared somebody might hear them, she
explained at length her plan of campaign. In her opinion the town
must be allowed to fall into still greater panic, while Pierre was to
maintain an heroic demeanour in the midst of the terrified inhabitants.
A secret presentiment, she said, warned her that the insurgents were
still at a distance. Moreover, the party of order would sooner or later
carr