en he went in, and he saw Victor Lecoq seated at the table,
with a plate filled with potatoes before him, taking his supper in the
very same place where his son had sat.

And he turned round suddenly as if he wanted to go away. The night was
very dark now. Celeste started up and shouted at him:

"Come quick, daddy! Here's some good stew to finish off the assembly
with."

He complied through inertia and sat down, watching in turn the man, the
woman and the child. Then he began to eat quietly as on ordinary days.

Victor Lecoq seemed quite at home, talked from time to time to Celeste,
took up the child in his lap and kissed him. And Celeste again served
him with food, poured out drink for him and appeared happy while
speaking to him. Old Amable's eyes followed them attentively, though he
could not hear what they were saying.

When he had finished supper (and he had scarcely eaten anything, there
was such a weight at his heart) he rose up, and instead of ascending to
his loft as he did every night he opened the gate of the yard and went
out into the open air.

When he had gone, Celeste, a little uneasy, asked:

"What is he going to do?"

Victor replied in an indifferent tone:

"Don't bother yourself. He'll come back when he's tired."

Then she saw after the house, washed the plates and wiped the table,
while the man quietly took off his clothes. Then he slipped into the
dark and hollow bed in which she had slept with Cesaire.

The yard gate opened and old Amable again appeared. As soon as he
entered the house he looked round on every side with the air of an old
dog on the scent. He was in search of Victor Lecoq. As he did not see
him, he took the candle off the table and approached the dark niche in
which his son had died. In the interior of it he perceived the man lying
under the bed clothes and already asleep. Then the deaf man noiselessly
turned round, put back the candle and went out into the yard.

Celeste had finished her work. She put her son into his bed, arranged
everything and waited for her father-in-law's return before lying down
herself.

She remained sitting on a chair, without moving her hands and with her
eyes fixed on vacancy.

As he did not come back, she murmured in a tone of impatience and
annoyance:

"This good-for-nothing old man will make us burn four sous' worth of
candles."

Victor answered from under the bed clothes:

"It's over an hour since he went out. We ought to see whet