All at once the carriage came to a standstill, and Julien called out to someone on the road behind; Jeanne and the baron leant out of the windows, and saw some singular creature rolling, rather than running, towards them. Hindered by the floating skirts of his coat, unable to see for his hat, which kept slipping over his eyes, his sleeves waving like the sails of a windmill, splashing through the puddles, stumbling over every large stone in his way, hastening, jumping, covered with mud, Marius was running after the carriage as fast as his legs could carry him. As soon as he came up Julien leant down, caught hold of him by the coat collar, and lifted him up on the box seat; then, dropping the reins, he began to pommel the boy's hat, which at once slipped down to his shoulders. Inside the hat, which sounded as if it had been a drum, Marius yelled at the top of his voice, but it was in vain that he struggled and tried to jump down, for his master held him firmly with one hand while he beat him with the other. "Papa! oh, papa!" gasped Jeanne; and the baroness, filled with indignation, seized her husband's arm, and exclaimed: "Stop him, Jacques, stop him!" The baron suddenly let down the front window, and, catching hold of the vicomte's sleeve: "Are you going to stop beating that child?" he said in a voice that trembled with anger. Julien turned round in astonishment. "But don't you see what a state the little wretch has got his livery into?" "What does that matter to me?" exclaimed the baron, with his head between the two. "You sha'n't be so rough with him." Julien got angry. "Kindly leave me alone," he said; "it's nothing to do with you;" and he raised his hand to strike the lad again. The baron caught hold of his son-in-law's wrist, and flung his uplifted hand heavily down against the woodwork of the seat, crying: "If you don't stop that, I'll get out and soon make you." He spoke in so determined a tone that the vicomte's rage suddenly vanished, and, shrugging his shoulders, he whipped up the horses, and the carriage moved on again. All this time Jeanne and her mother had sat still, pale with fright, and the beating of the baroness's heart could be distinctly heard. At dinner that evening Julien was more agreeable than usual, and behaved as if nothing had happened. Jeanne, her father, and Madame Adelaide easily forgave, and, touched by his good temper, they joined in his gayety with a feeling of relief. When Jeanne mentioned the Brisevilles, her husband even made a joke about them, though he quickly added: "But one can see directly that they are gentlepeople." No more visits were paid, as everyone dreaded any reference to Marius, but they were going to send cards to their neighbors on New Year's day, and then wait to call on them until spring came, and the weather was warmer.