Bongrand, at these words said by the old man, “Tomorrow I shall go to mass!” the justice of the peace had not replied, “Your heirs will sleep no more!” it would have needed only a single glance from the shrewd, clear-sighted doctor to penetrate the frame of mind of his heirs at sight of their faces. Zélie’s irruption into the church, her look that the doctor caught, this assembly of all the parties concerned, in the market-place, and the expression of their eyes as they saw Ursule, all betrayed renewed hatred and sordid fears.
“This is your doing, mademoiselle!” resumed Madame Crémière, also interposing with a humble curtsey. “A miracle costs you nothing.”
“He belongs to God, madame,” replied Ursule.
“Oh! God!” cried Minoret-Levrault, “my father-in-law used to say that He served as a cloak for many a horse.”
“He had the opinions of a horse-dealer,” said the doctor severely.
“Well,” said Minoret to his wife and son, “are you not going to greet my uncle?”
“I could not control myself before this demure-looking chit,” cried Zélie, carrying off her son.
“You would do well, uncle,” said Madame Massin, “not to go to church without a little black velvet cap, the church is very damp.”
“Bah! my niece,” said the old man, looking at those who accompanied him, “the sooner I am laid to rest, the sooner you will dance.”
He continued walking the whole time, dragging
