[Illustration] CHAPTER IX. CLOUDS. Savin was still sitting at the table. Though he had finished eating and drinking he still remained there, not wishing to move lest his wife should think he was following her to spy upon her actions. Fadard had the effrontery to accost him and ask permission to dance with Catherine. “Madame Barrau,” replied the gamekeeper, “is at liberty to do as she pleases.” Though he was daring by nature, Fadard thought it wiser to make no reply, and he was turning to withdraw when Andoche, flushed and besotted by a too senseless indulgence in his “besetting sin,” seized him by the lapel of his coat, saying: “_You_ want to dance? Did you say you were thinking of dancing, at your age? It must have been a long time since you last looked in a mirror--ha! ha! ha! So you want to dance, eh?” “And why shouldn’t I dance if I feel that way?” “Fellow-citizens,” shouted Andoche in a high voice, pointing to Fadard, “behold this gentleman. Is it not a broad hint on the part of the ladies when they must needs ask their husbands’ consent to dance with him? And just to think of it--he doesn’t know people are laughing at him. My friend, you had much better remain in my society.” Strange as it appeared, Fadard did not resent the blacksmith’s cutting remarks, and he offered no reply. Doubtless his reasons were good for not wishing to antagonize Andoche, or he certainly would have retaliated there and then. He walked toward the dancing-room, and rejoining Madame Barrau, acquainted her with Savin’s answer. “So you see, madame, you are at liberty to dance with me or with another, just as you choose.” “Oh, no,” replied Catherine. “Not unless I am legally authorized to do so.” “You must be jesting.” “No, indeed I am not.” “But, believe me, Monsieur Barrau declared you are free to dance whenever you please.” “Yes, but that is not sufficient. Go back and bid him express himself in due form of the law. His response, I fear, was illegal.” Fadard intently regarded Catherine for a moment, but she so defiantly returned his gaze that he was perplexed. “Perhaps,” she added, “he was only making a fool of you.” “You are, at all events,” he rejoined. “Well!” “Take care, my little woman. It will cost you dear to make fun of Fadard.” “You should say that to my husband. But perhaps it is only in dealing with women that you are so brave.” “Pooh! I would as soon tackle Monsieur Barrau as anybody else,” cried Fadard, with rising anger. “Only let me find him in a tight corner----” “Who?” thundered Savin from behind. “Enough! We shall see,” answered Fadard as he sneaked away like a whipped cur. Catherine quickly apprised the other girls of Fadard’s discomfiture. To hide his embarrassment, Fadard hastened to ask Jenny Fourès for the next dance. The merriest, liveliest girl in the whole province was Jenny, and the name of “Madcap” just suited her. “Monsieur,” said she, “it seems to me you are not very polite.”