in the presence of your own children-”
“Why don’t you speak to Zephe as well, Monsieur le Cure? Ask him who began it!”
“I? But I didn’t even want to answer! It’s no crime to know what one knows.”
“Lies are all you know! And in any case, when one has a daughter like yours-!”
“Silence!” roared the cure. “Adelaide Haudouin, you’re the one who should be ashamed!”
“So I’m to be ashamed, am I, Monsieur le Cure! But it’s nothing but pretty speeches and money and flowered aprons for that sly little baggage living like a street-woman in Paris, and after starting at home with her own father to show her how! New dresses and money and aprons and winnowing-machines and anything else you like! Get down into the gutter and that's where you’ll find money, and more money after that, and its easy enough if you know how, when your own father. .”
Adelaide was raving, shaking Juliette and Aunt Helene, who were clinging to her arms. The cure perceived that she was in a state of exaltation which might carry her very far, and he admired her for it a little, and began to think harshly of the Alalorets. He signed to Zephe and his boys to leave the cemetery. The Malorets, trembling with fear and shame, were not even angry. Zephe followed the cure, whimpering in a small voice:
“I can’t believe… I can’t believe it has happened. . ”
“You’re nothing but a clod,” said the cure in a voice which the spectators were intended to hear. “Your private affairs don’t interest me in the least!”
Alexis left the group of Haudouins, and going in pursuit of Tintin Maloret, who was walking at the end of the file, let fly with a kick. Tintin uttered no protest; he gave a little jump, drawing close to the cure's cassock, and brushed the dust off the seat of his Sunday breeches. The incident somewhat abated Adelaide’s transports, and her revilings gradually died down, to cease entirely as Zephe and his family passed through the gateway.
At the time when Mass was due to end Honore and Ferdinand had set off along the road to meet their families. Ferdinand was filled with rejoicing at the departure of Marguerite Maloret.
“I was in a very difficult position on account of Valtier. Those visits to Zephe’s house were most embarrassing, but at the same time I could scarcely avoid them. I must say, I’m very glad she’s gone.”
“Good,” said Honore gently. “Good.”
“You say ‘good,’ but you look as though-”
“I do? But I’m as glad as you are that she’s gone. She had everything at sixes and sevens while she was here.” “Yes, especially as she was a bit — well, how shall I put it? — light-headed. . I’m sure that little incident last Thursday would never have happened if it hadn’t been for Marguerite. To start with, Juliette would have had no reason for going to the Malorets’. And then, it would never have entered Zephe’s head or — or Noel’s to — to— well, I’m sure they’d never have teased the poor child if Marguerite had not put them up to it. She must have made some rather broad jokes, I suppose, and Noel being there. . well, you know what these youngsters are. That’s why I really don’t feel there’s any need to take that matter too seriously, as Adelaide is inclined to do.” Honore wagged his head and smiled indulgently. When they were half-way to the church they encountered the Berthiers crossing to go down a side road.
“You’ve missed a fine old bust-up!” cried Clovis Berthier. “But Adelaide was there for the two of you, and the Malorets knew all about it!”
Ferdinand tugged at his nose, gazing apprehensively at his brother.
“What did he mean? What do you think can have happened?”
“How should I know?” said Honore.
They passed the Rousseliers, the Rugearts, the Boeufs and the Trousquets, who remarked in passing:
“There’s just been quite a commotion!”
“You’ve come just too late!”
“They had what you might call a family argument!” “Enough to take the roof off! It’s a wonder you didn’t hear!”
“Adelaide was as good as a man, any day!”
Honore remained tolerably calm, smiling and exchanging greetings and obliging his brother to continue walking at a leisurely pace. He answered suavely, “So I gather,” and “Well, it does seem like it.” But Ferdinand was in a state of increasing agitation, blushing, nudging his brother, turning his head to right and to left and seeming to turn it in a complete circle, so that one expected to find his Adam’s-apple round at the back and his neck twisted like a corkscrew. After meeting the Trousquets he found himself quite incapable of encountering any more of those returning from Mass, and turned back towards the house, the prey to a thousand hideous surmises which he poured into his brother’s ears.
“Supposing Zephe had the letter on him, and suppose he talked about the Prussian, and suppose the two women started fighting, and suppose Valtier were to find out!.
When they were home again Honore sat down in the shade while Ferdinand stayed in the middle of the yard, stretching his neck till it almost reached the road as he waited for the women to come in sight. Gustave and Clotilde were the first to arrive, a hundred yards ahead of the others.
“We told them off!” cried Gustave. “We said all the words we knew!”
“And all about Zephe and Marguerite and everything,” added Clotilde.
Ferdinand instantly lost a pound in weight.
“And Alexis kicked their bottom!”
“No, he didn’t,” said Clotilde. “It was me that kicked their bottom!”
“It wasn’t, it was Alexis!”
“It was me, I tell you, and the proof is-”
“Well, what’s the proof?”
“The proof is. .”
While they were stridently arguing the main body arrived.
“Well?” asked Ferdinand, in the voice of a dying man. “You'd better come indoors first,” said Flonore. “You must be very hot.”
When they were all in the kitchen he said:
“I hear you’ve been having words with Zephe?”
“We were standing by the graves with the Malorets beside us,” Adelaide began. “We weren’t doing anything at all, just standing there quite quietly, and-”
At a sceptical sound from Ferdinand she looked for support round the circle of witnesses. Honore’s four children and their cousin Antoine said yes with a single voice. Frederic alone conveyed by his attitude a sardonic disavowal, but Juliette covered it up by placing herself in front of him.
“And all of a sudden,” Adelaide went on, “Zephe started talking about my parents-in-law. Juliette could hear nearly as well as I could.”
“One moment!” exclaimed Ferdinand. “Juliette, leave the room while your mother tells us the exact words Zephe used.”
The precaution seemed humiliating as well as unnecessary. However, Juliette did as he asked, and then repeated the words herself when she came back into the kitchen, including several that her mother had overlooked.
“Well, I must say!. .” muttered Honore.
Adelaide continued her recital, being constantly interrupted by Ferdinand, who sharply queried everything she said. She maintained that she had only referred to the family habits of the Alalorets in reply to an allusion so offensive that the blood had boiled in her veins.
“Zephe’s too cunning to have thrown away the entire value of the letter for the sake of a single remark,” said Ferdinand. “I’m sure the allusion was so vague that no one could understand it. Let me ask Antoine. He knows nothing about the letter.”
“I tell you, everyone understood perfectly that my mother-in-law-”
“Be quiet! I’m asking Antoine — and Clotilde — and Lu-cienne. I’m quite sure you’re exaggerating.”