'Of course I can take her back if I choose,' he said. 'After all she's as good as many another. One might kill her and she wouldn't say a bad word to one.' Then turning to Bonnaire, who had remained silent: 'She's stupid, is Josine, he said, 'to be always getting frightened like that. Where has she got to now?' 'She's waiting on the stairs with Nanet,' said the master puddler. Ragu thereupon threw the door wide open to shout: 'Josine! Josine!' Nobody replied, however, not the faintest sound came from the dense darkness enveloping the stairs. In the faint gleam of light which the lamp cast in the direction of the landing one could see merely Nanet, who stood there, seemingly watching and waiting. 'Ah! there you are, you little rascal!' cried Ragu. 'What on earth are you doing there?' The child was in no wise disconcerted, he did not so much as flinch. Drawing up his little figure, no taller than a jackboot, he bravely answered: 'I was listening so as to know.' 'And your sister, where's she? Why doesn't she answer when she's called?' '_Ma grande_? She was upstairs with me, sitting on the stairs. But when she heard you come in here, she was afraid that you might go up to beat her. So she thought it best to go down again, so that she could run away if you were bad-tempered.' This made Ragu laugh. Besides the lad's pluck amused him. 'And you, aren't you frightened?' he asked. 'I? If you touch me, I'll shriek so loud that my sister will be warned and able to run away.' Quite softened, the man went to lean over the stairs, and call again: 'Josine! Josine! Here, come up, don't be stupid. You know very well that I sha'n't kill you.' But the same death-like silence continued, nothing stirred, nothing ascended from the darkness. And Luc, whose presence was no longer requisite, took leave, bowing to La Toupe, who with her lips compressed stiffly bent her head. The children had gone off to sleep again. Old Lunot, still with his extinguished pipe in his mouth, had managed to reach the little chamber where he slept, hugging the walls on his way. And Bonnaire, who in his turn had sunk upon a chair, silent amidst his cheerless surroundings, his eyes gazing far away into the threatening future, was waiting for an opportunity to follow his terrible wife to bed. 'Keep up your courage, _au revoir_,' said Luc to him, whilst vigorously shaking his hand. On the landing Ragu was still calling, in tones which now became entreating: 'Josine! come, Josine! I tell you that I'm no longer angry.' And as no sign of life came from the darkness he turned towards Nanet, who meddled with nothing, preferring that his sister should act as she pleased: 'Perhaps she's run off,' said the man. 'Oh! no, where would you have her go? She must have sat down on the stairs again.'