He arrived quite out of breath. Aunt Dide had not gone to bed, a
circumstance which at any other time would have greatly surprised
Silvere. But on entering he did not even see his uncle Rougon, who was
seated in a corner on the old chest. He did not wait for the poor old
woman's questions. "Grandmother," he said quickly, "you must forgive
me; I'm going to leave with the others. You see I've got blood on me. I
believe I've killed a gendarme."
"You've killed a gendarme?" Aunt Dide repeated in a strange voice.
Her eyes gleamed brightly as she fixed them on the red stains. And
suddenly she turned towards the chimney-piece. "You've taken the gun,"
she said; "where's the gun?"
Silvere, who had left the weapon with Miette, swore to her that it was
quite safe. And for the very first time, Adelaide made an allusion to
the smuggler Macquart in her grandson's presence.
"You'll bring the gun back? You promise me!" she said with singular
energy. "It's all I have left of him. You've killed a gendarme; ah, it
was the gendarmes who killed him!"
She continued gazing fixedly at Silvere with an air of cruel
satisfaction, and apparently without thought of detaining him. She never
asked him for any explanation, nor wept like those good grandmothers who
always imagine, at sight of the least scratch, that their grandchildren
are dying. All her nature was concentrated in one unique thought, to
which she at last gave expression with ardent curiosity: "Did you kill
the gendarme with the gun?"
Either Silvere did not quite catch what she said, or else he
misunderstood her.
Pages:
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256