Ashamed of his stupidity, Suzanne’s husband remained silent for a moment, and then essayed to repair his mistake. But Savin, refusing to listen to his ridiculous explanations, turned angrily away and took the nearest path for his home. “There are beasts that never ought to open their mouths,” growled Andoche, as soon as Savin was out of hearing. “You mean me?” inquired Jacques. “No--oh, no. I mean Napoleon I., of course.” “Well, how did I know that everybody was in love with his wife, eh?” “There will be a great scene when he reaches home, and you will be the cause, you simpleton. _Mon Dieu!_ That man told the truth who said that the wicked are less to be feared than fools, because they sometimes keep quiet, while fools never do.” Barrau took long strides, and he breathed as with difficulty. If he had encountered Catherine at that moment, a terrible catastrophe might have been the result. His mind, travelling faster than his limbs, was occupied with reflections that may be summarized thus: “What effrontery! In open daylight to caress a blackguard like that Bruno. They were right in predicting that I should repent of my contract. The coquette! But is it true? Bah! What interest would he have in making up such a story? But perhaps he did not really see it. Perhaps--but no! Jacques is not a liar. Oh, miserable woman! To make herself the laughing-stock of the whole country. But who knows?” He paused a moment, and then went on: “Like all deceived husbands, I was unable to believe that such a misfortune could come to me, that such shame could enter my home. In all St. Benoit there is not a fireside where they are not mocking me.” Barrau’s love and vanity were equally wounded. His anger knew no bounds, and by the time he reached the cottage he was half mad with doubt and sorrow. Hearing his step on the walk, Catherine came out to meet him, her face softened by smiles and her general manner indicating that she desired a reconciliation. While awaiting Savin she had arranged a little confession she now purposed to offer. If on this day Firmin had kept out of Savin’s path, conjugal harmony would have been restored, for Catherine was resolved to make the _amende honorable_. But fatality willed it otherwise. As Barrau approached, he saw his wife standing by the door. Irritated to a state of madness, he fancied he perceived in her friendly attitude and advances only deception, and in his brutality as a betrayed husband he raised the butt of his gun and struck her without a word of warning or explanation. Never afterward could the misguided fellow forgive himself or forget that scene.