There were only a few envious spirits
of the new town, lawyers without work and retired military men ashamed
of having slept ingloriously through that memorable night, who raised
any doubts. The insurgents, these sceptics hinted, had no doubt left
the town of their own accord. There were no indications of a combat,
no corpses, no blood-stains. So the deliverers had certainly had a very
easy task.
"But the mirror, the mirror!" repeated the enthusiasts. "You can't deny
that the mayor's mirror has been smashed; go and see it for yourselves."
And, in fact, until night-time, quite a stream of town's-people flowed,
under one pretext or another, into the mayor's private office, the door
of which Rougon left wide open. The visitors planted themselves in front
of the mirror, which the bullet had pierced and starred, and they all
gave vent to the same exclamation: "By Jove; that ball must have had
terrible force!"
Then they departed quite convinced.
Felicite, at her window, listened with delight to all the rumours and
laudatory and grateful remarks which arose from the town. At that moment
all Plassans was talking of her husband. She felt that the two districts
below her were quivering, wafting her the hope of approaching triumph.
Ah! how she would crush that town which she had been so long in getting
beneath her feet! All her grievances crowded back to her memory, and her
past disappointments redoubled her appetite for immediate enjoyment.
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