ome! come! Do you intend to pay me, after all?" cried the former,
in a rage.

"Ask the master for the money," ironically answered the woman from
next door, pointing to the joiner, who had just fallen against the
counter.

The countrywoman looked at him.

"Ah! he is the father," resumed she; "well, what idle beggars! not
to have a penny to pay honest people, and get tipsy with wine in
that way."

The drunkard raised his head.

"What! what!" stammered he; "who is it that talks of wine? I've had
nothing but brandy. But I am going back again to get some wine.
Wife, give me your money; there are some friends waiting for me at
the _Pere la Tuille_."

Genevieve did not answer: he went round the counter, opened the
till, and began to rummage in it.

"You see where the money of the house goes!" observed the neighbour
to the countrywoman; "how can the poor unhappy woman pay you when he
takes all?"

"Is that my fault, then?" replied the nurse angrily; "they owe it
me, and somehow or other they must pay me."

And letting loose her tongue, as those women out of the country do,
she began relating at length all the care she had taken of the
child, and all the expense it had been to her. In proportion as she
recalled all she had done, her words seemed to convince her more
than ever of her rights, and to increase her anger. The poor mother,
who no doubt feared that her violence would frighten the child,
returned into the back shop, and put it into its cradle.

Whether it was that the countrywoman saw in this act a determination
to escape her claims, or that she was blinded by passion, I cannot
say; but she rushed into the next room, where I heard the sounds of
quarrelling, with which the cries of the child were soon mingled.
The joiner, who was still rummaging in the till, was startled, and
raised his head.

At the same moment Genevieve appeared at the door, holding in her
arms the baby that the countrywoman was trying to tear from her. She
ran towards the counter, and, throwing herself behind her husband,
cried,

"Michael, defend your son!"

The drunken man quickly stood up erect, like one who awakes with a
start.

"My son!" stammered he; "what son?"

His looks fell upon the child; a vague ray of intelligence passed
over his features.

"Robert," resumed he; "is it Robert?"

He tried to steady himself on his feet, that he might take the baby,
but he tottered. The nurse approached him in a rage.

"My money, or