es, do,--let me beg of you!"

"Now, don't put me in a passion," exclaimed La Louve, thoroughly
irritated. "I have said no, and I mean no."

"Take pity on the poor thing, see how she is crying!"

"What is that to me? So much the worse for her; she is our pain-bearer"
(_souffre douleur_).

"So she is," murmured out a number of the prisoners, instigated by the
example of La Louve. "No, no, she ought not to have her rags back! So
much the worse for Mont Saint-Jean."

"You are right," said Fleur-de-Marie, with bitterness; "it is so much
the worse for her; she is your pain-bearer, she ought to submit herself
to your pleasure,--her tears and sighs amuse and divert you!--and you
must have some way of passing your time. Were you to kill her on the
spot, she would have no right to say anything. You speak truly, La
Louve, this is just and fair, is it not? Here is a poor, weak,
defenceless woman; alone in the midst of so many, she is quite unable to
defend herself, yet you all combine against her! Certainly your
behaviour towards her is most just and generous!"

"And I suppose you mean to say we are all a parcel of cowards?" retorted
La Louve, carried away by the violence of her disposition and extreme
impatience at anything like contradiction. "Answer me, do you call us
cowards, eh? Speak out, and let us know your meaning," continued she,
growing more and more incensed.

A murmur of displeasure against La Goualeuse, not unmixed with threats,
arose from the assembled crowd. The offended prisoners thronged around
her, vociferating their disapprobation, forgetting, or remembering but
as a fresh cause of offence, the ascendency she had until the present
moment exercised over them.

"She calls us cowards, you see!"

"What business has she to find fault with us?"

"Is she better than we are, I should like to know?"

"Ah, we have all been too kind to her!"

"And now she wants to give herself fine lady airs, and to domineer over
us! If we choose to torment Mont Saint-Jean, what need has she to
interfere?"

"Since it has come to this, I tell you what, Mont Saint-Jean, you shall
fare the worse for it for the future."

"Take this to begin with!" said one of the most violent of the party,
giving her a blow.

"And if you meddle again with what does not concern you, La Goualeuse,
we will serve you the same."

"Yes, that we will."

"But that is not all!" said La Louve. "La Goualeuse must ask our pardon
for having called us