the children?" were Martial's first words, as he sat down to
table.

"Where they ought to be," replied Calabash, surlily.

"Where are the children, mother?" said Martial again, without taking the
slightest notice of his sister's reply.

"Gone to bed," replied the widow, in a harsh tone.

"Haven't they had their supper, mother?"

"What's that to you?" exclaimed Nicholas, brutally, after having
swallowed a large glass of wine to increase his courage, for his
brother's disposition and strength had a very strong effect on him.

Martial, as indifferent to the attacks of Nicholas as to those of
Calabash, then said to his mother, "I'm sorry the children are gone to
bed so soon."

"So much the worse," responded the widow.

"Yes, so much the worse; for I like to have them beside me when I am at
supper."

"And we, because they were troublesome and annoyed us, have sent them
off," cried Nicholas; "and if you don't like it, why, you can go after
them."

Martial, astonished, looked steadfastly at his brother. Then, as if
convinced of the futility of a quarrel, he shrugged his shoulders, cut
off a slice of bread and a piece of meat.

The dog had come up towards Nicholas, although keeping at a very
respectful distance; and the ruffian, irritated at the disdain with
which his brother treated him, and hoping to wear out his patience by
ill-using his dog, gave Miraut a savage kick, which made the poor brute
howl fearfully. Martial turned red, clasped in his hand the knife he
held, and struck violently on the table with the handle; but, again
controlling himself, he called the dog to him, saying, quietly, "Here,
Miraut!" The hound came, and crouched at his master's feet.

This composure quite upset Nicholas's plans, who was desirous of pushing
his brother to extremities, in order to produce an explosion. So he
added, "I hate dogs--I do; and I won't have this dog remain here."
Martial's only reply was to pour out a glass of wine, and drink it off
slowly. Exchanging a rapid glance with Nicholas, the widow encouraged
him by a signal to continue his hostilities towards Martial, hoping, as
we have said, that a violent quarrel would arise that would lead to a
rupture and complete separation.

Nicholas, then, taking up the willow stick which the widow had used to
beat Francois, went up to the dog, and, striking him sharply, said, "Get
out, you brute, Miraut!"

Up to this time Nicholas had often shown himself sulkily offensive